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Jane Doe183 - 05/01/2012

March 14th - 04/20/2012

coming back....soon - 2012-02-02

Sickly - 2011-09-28

big changes - 2011-04-14

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8:55 p.m. - 2005-11-20

I finally heard from My friend Charlie. He agreed to help me out. I just hope too much time didnt pass by.

Payday. Booyah.

I made a pilgrimage to the Police supply store and bought some new duds as My older ones have seem better days. And a nice new bag for all My gear. Hopefully this one will stay neater, and hold more shit, um neater.

I did have a small internal sigh of relief after talking to chuck. I mean part of Me was really worried he wouldnt want to help. EVen if he said no I wouldnt have held it against him after all he has done for me, and been there for me the past few years. He is the one person I know I can count on. So a little leeway is more than warrented for his help. So hopefully I will meet up with him sometime next week to finalize the paperwork. Then I will send it priority overnight so I dont waste anymore time than I already have.

If at some time I had stripped someone naked emotionally I apoligize humbly. No one should have to feel esposed with the world seeing the very nerves they try to hide. Your softer parts on the other hand are fair game.

Saturday I bumped literally into an old highschool friend. A guy I have not seen since I graduated in 1994. Fucking 11 years man. He saw me first. And we shared an awkward moment in the middle of a movie theatre lobby. But I gave him My number, he gave me his. He has sinced moved to Brooklyn, and is doign well as far as I can tell. There is so much to tell him, so much to hear about his life. This is a man who I spent much of My time with growing up in My more "impressionable" years. My friends name is Matt. Short for Mattias. His dad was greek. His mom a nice irish girl. Yeah. My whole love of Industrial music is his fault. My love of everything dark and forboding is also his fault, or I would have drowned in the LL Bean Nightmare My mom loves so much. He drew his own tattoos. And went to school for graphic art. I can assume he is doing so professionally now.

I was at Matt's house the first time I was drunk. There are many firsts I experienced with him, not all good or highly benificial but I look back on them and laugh Myself to pee. My first bottle of Rumpleminz Peppermint Schnapps, and consequently my last. Being dropped down a flight of stairs. Projectile vomiting. The "Ivan" necklace. My first real New Years party. The sad part of this was most of these things happened in the same night.

Matt was the oldest of two brothers. His younger brother Wes was a real pain in the ass back then. Drunk, smoking, and doing drugs at the ripe old age of 14. The term "wigger" fit him to a T. He was always into something, getting into trouble and dealing drugs. That is until his card came up.

He was in a car driven by a friend when they were hit by a drunk driver.

The drunk driver never stopped and shortly before Christmas of 1995 I went to go visit him in the hospital. He was in the ICU unit of the local hospital. His mom was with him, and so was Matt. It was a silent, pitiful vigil as I saw him in that bed. I can still remmeber like it was yesterday. There were tubes coming out from everywhere. On a respirator and his eyes were semi open. The eyes rolled back in his head. He was twitching every now and again. A sure sign of brain damage. His mom held his hand telling me he could hear us, but I wasnt so sure. Even still I spoke to him, and hoped he got better. He died three days later.

After that it was never the same at his house, or with his mom. Despite the pain he caused her and Matt, it was if he was always innocent, and she clung to the memory of her youngest boy until the pressure and temper she threw at Matt was enough to make him leave. I havent seen him since.

Today at work someone tried to punk Me. Play boss, in other words they tried to get me in trouble. They failed.

"Hello, we are contracted to be picked up no earlier than 11am. And I will be sure corporate will get an email about this"

This was told to me on the phone handed to me by the clerk behind the counter. I kept calm, and walked away. She made a few mistakes in her conversation with me. One where she didnt let me say anything, and lept to conclusions. First of all it was 10:30 when I arrived to pick them up for the first Sunday during the holiday shopping season. Normally when I am at a pickup location, and the cash office isnt ready I am more than willing to wait for them to finish, or to work with those in the office. The moment you try and play hardball with me, I get what they call "pissed off".

No shit.

I contact My office. My supervisors, and My corporate office. Several things are revealed, and I come out smelling like roses.

There is no contractural obligation on Sundays for this particular business. In essence when I arrive regardless of time, they need to be ready. What does this mean for that stupid bitch on the phone who is a manager there? They arent ready, I leave. Paperwork is out of order, I leave. A bag is messed up I leave.....

She wants to play "by the book" so will I. And I have already won. Her life from this day forward on Sundays will be by My rules, not hers. I dont work for anyone but My company. They dont tell me what to do, and I'll be damned if I will let them start now.

You fucking cunt...

Ok, now I feel better.

You know it has been said a picture is worth a thousand words. I dont believe this is always true. Sometimes they fail to say the right words.

Looking at the smile on a pretty face doesnt speak the words I know they could be saying to me. Could they be describing forever? Hinting at something else. Words to me say far more than pictures can ever could. They help guide your feelings to join your favorite novel character, or send you to the stars. They are the reason songs, and poetry has the power they do. WOrds mean alot to me. Actions are important to, but words can do wonderous things.

Whisper dirty little secrets in My ear and make me blush, and I promise to play with you.

It is important to say the right words. The wrong ones can make you seem like you said something you didnt mean. Words are important.

And so is not pissing Me off.

3 people who actually read this crap

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