Summer's supposed to finish here at the end of July. I guess nobody ever really realises though because August tends to be one of the better months, and kids are still off school and running around 'til a later curfew, smiling differently because they can feel that freedom that comes with not having a care in the world. I was supposed to go with all of my best friends today to see Metallica and a few other bands play in a huge field of mud and confusion. I could've ended up bumping into a boy - no, a man - who swore to me that he'd kiss me if he found me, no matter if I was with the love of my life or not. The past three years, we've ended up at different gigs in the same huge field in between days of torrential rain, where this one day'd be perfect in every way. Today's no different, apart from the fact that I'm not there. I bit the bait and sold my ticket yesterday because my head's still in a surreal, painful place and my chest and arms vary between agony and numbness. I'm finding it difficult to get a doctor to believe that this is not a headache nor a cold nor a sinus infection. I've been dizzy and nauseous and sore for going on way too long now and I really think it's time somebody began to fucking taking me seriously.