My San Pellegrino HAS Exploded...

... all over my face.

Had this wild dream last night. Then, I woke up and realized it's been seventeen years of therapy and in the end I still feel the same:

WORTHLESS.

Yet, if wasn't for therapy and doing exercises on how else to "express" myself, there wouldn't be an extensive collection of journals from the hey days of Jackson Heights livings.

The question is do I stop going, or do I stop holding in everything and start reacting?