Snippet of my blog

The phone. I said something. I was on the phone. Cell phone. It was an involved conversation. I was walking with someone. Female. Some one I’m closed to. We were walking to class. We entered, and I put my bag on a chair, intending to leave the room again (as I was still on the phone). And there was B. Flis, sitting with a notebook open before him. He was angry with me. He told me to leave the room while I was on the phone. That made me annoyed, as I was already going to do that.

At some point one of my molars came out, and I was spitting blood. It was a big molar too. My teeth fall out in my dreams when I’m stressed. Usually it’s my front two teeth, but once all my teeth fell out. I always spit blood. The more stressed I am the more blood I spit out.