I came home to find out that a very good childhood friend of mine died recently.
I'm very sad about it, and it is rather eerie because i'd thought about her just a few days ago. Her name was Rose and I would play with her when I would spend my half-years in Kansas when my parents would send me over there. She was the exact same age as me and we were very, very close.
I'm upset because I just came back from one of the most excellent concerts ever, to find a package in my mailbox. My grandfather from Kansas sent me an envelope with only this: my account summary for my tuition being paid, etc, and a newspaper clipping from the obituaries about my dead friend. No explanation. No condolences. Just a receipt and a clipping.
I will tell you why I am so obsessed about finding love. All my family cares about is money. Especially my caucasian side, they are possessed with a Puritan work ethic idealogy to work until they croak. I have never been interested in wealth, because I have always known, from an early age, that when we die, we take nothing with us, not even the clothes on our backs. (Probaby because my dad took me into those cryogenic chambers and showed me corpses when I was 4.) Best to do the things that make us happy, make the people around us happy, make our lives fulfilling and enriched. I know being a writer will not make me any money. But I want to do something that makes me, and the people around me, happy for the rest of my life.
I am happy when I am in love. It makes me feel like it is the only thing worth seeking in this world. Not green slips of paper or fancy brand names that declare the glory of CEOs I have never met.
I love people, I love human interaction, and I love making love. These are the only things that make me feel alive, that make me feel wonder in this world.
I miss Rose. I hope that whatever higher power there is, that it has embraced her and that she is safe. She was always a good Christian girl. I'm sure she has much more of a better chance of going to heaven than I do, being a pussy eating dyke that says curse words all the time.
Sigh. Rose, tonight I will pray for you. And tomorrow, I will feed the poor at a shelter to do something right for a change.
I am tired of the greed and suffering in my family. One day, I will find myself a wife, I'll take good care of her and we'll be safe from the greed and hate. And nobody will catch us, it will be just me and her.
We could run away.
I'm very sad about it, and it is rather eerie because i'd thought about her just a few days ago. Her name was Rose and I would play with her when I would spend my half-years in Kansas when my parents would send me over there. She was the exact same age as me and we were very, very close.
I'm upset because I just came back from one of the most excellent concerts ever, to find a package in my mailbox. My grandfather from Kansas sent me an envelope with only this: my account summary for my tuition being paid, etc, and a newspaper clipping from the obituaries about my dead friend. No explanation. No condolences. Just a receipt and a clipping.
I will tell you why I am so obsessed about finding love. All my family cares about is money. Especially my caucasian side, they are possessed with a Puritan work ethic idealogy to work until they croak. I have never been interested in wealth, because I have always known, from an early age, that when we die, we take nothing with us, not even the clothes on our backs. (Probaby because my dad took me into those cryogenic chambers and showed me corpses when I was 4.) Best to do the things that make us happy, make the people around us happy, make our lives fulfilling and enriched. I know being a writer will not make me any money. But I want to do something that makes me, and the people around me, happy for the rest of my life.
I am happy when I am in love. It makes me feel like it is the only thing worth seeking in this world. Not green slips of paper or fancy brand names that declare the glory of CEOs I have never met.
I love people, I love human interaction, and I love making love. These are the only things that make me feel alive, that make me feel wonder in this world.
I miss Rose. I hope that whatever higher power there is, that it has embraced her and that she is safe. She was always a good Christian girl. I'm sure she has much more of a better chance of going to heaven than I do, being a pussy eating dyke that says curse words all the time.
Sigh. Rose, tonight I will pray for you. And tomorrow, I will feed the poor at a shelter to do something right for a change.
I am tired of the greed and suffering in my family. One day, I will find myself a wife, I'll take good care of her and we'll be safe from the greed and hate. And nobody will catch us, it will be just me and her.
We could run away.
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i wish for you to find love. i wish that for most people, including myself.