"What Size Coffin Are You?"

The planning for my case goes on around me. The lawyer has me posing for pictures. I tried to tell her it's not what you do after you get caught that matters. She doesn't listen. My opinion on legal matters is worth nothing, apparently. I'll pose for the pictures, but I won't smile.

I can't decide whether I want to be inside the house or outside. It's raining pretty hard today, and that suits my mood fine. I actually feel trapped in here, which is strange because I'm fighting to keep living here. I should spend as much time in here as I can, right? While I still have it.

Every day that goes by makes me more anxious, and nothing makes me anxious like anxiety. It's a good thing the case is soon because I can't take this anymore.