So I completely forgot about this site I had... I'm up late reminiscing about the past, reading old emails and songs I wrote many years ago. This one letter I wrote to a friend stuck out and I wanted to share it. If you asked to read this a few years ago I would've said, "whatever, piss off". But time changes you... As I get older I grow softer, and thank god you know...
date
Thu, Apr 19, 2007 at 9:31 PM"Might take some time to read through this mess...
Hey, nice poetry or whatever you'd like it to be called. The recording of the survivor was pretty deep... They told him to simply go home. So it was those few words, maybe those few times he spent exchanging conversations with the two guys is what saved his life? Maybe it wasn't his time? Or maybe he just got lucky... I figure I cannot say for sure as I was not in his position, or any of the other students and teachers who made it. The only thing I can relate is my uncle blowing his brains out, all over him and his wife's bedroom.... My cousin Lee had to walk in and see his fathers blood all over the the room. He was about 12 or 13. He went to the phone, called my aunt and told her that she needed to come home because "dad was sick". I don't want to understand what that can do to a person... I remember skipping school one day and these two girls were driving to middle college and wrecked. The new friend who had just started attending middle college died, and the driver survived. It's strange because I had went to school with this girl growing up and she was a solid person, real nice, didn't get caught up in lame shit... Perhaps in the eyes of a god she had completed her walk on this earth and the deeds were complete... so she was taken away... I was in the office the day before it happened. She stepped in, I turned around and made eye contact with her. I then felt strange, not nervous, not scared, just strange. I grabbed my books, left, and never thought about it again. Little did I know it would be the last time I would ever see her... Her funeral came around and I couldn't bring myself to go... What would I do, I had no words to describe what I felt... I surely didn't want to be around her family and dearest friends who would be crying for someone they thought they couldn't live without.. And there I would be, only having a memory of being in her classes. I guess we take whatever shit we are forced to deal with and either try to forget and ignore it, or dedicate all of our waking hours to ponder on the tragedy. I'm not saying either way is correct, it all depends on what you can handle in the long run... There's certainly anger in my heart... pain. I did nothing wrong and was forced to see and be part of other's life problems. My father molested my sister when she was little, my mother was molested when she was young, she had her first born and put him up for adoption... a brother I have never met... my mother would get drunk somewhere and leave us for my sister to watch us when we were little... a thousand problems that will never be solved. People can't be responsible for their own shit. They went on to damage a family that was not even born yet... My step father was a joke, he broke things and would leave... During my first year of fourth grade I was being bullied and fucked around with at home. My teacher had my desk topled over when I walked in to class one day and I had to put all my papers back... 1 of much bullshit I dealt with during that school year so I stopped going. Home was shit, school was pain, so I just walked around town, skated, or watched tv. I ended up failing 4th grade and how I made it through the next few years well.. I guess someone wanted me to get through school. I got in to punk rock music, I became more isolated from my family and peers, and I was very depressed much of the time... Oscar got in to experimenting with drugs, that's how he dealt with it.
In my mind, I always knew that the public school bullshit was never right for me... i lost interest in it at an age where you shouldn't even have to think about that kind of thing... Now I'm settling for ged... Now I'm free... for the first time in a long time I feel free... I'm happy and I actually feel more like I'm going to make it... I think much of what I have had to adapt to has shaped the person I am today. Through all of the pain and suffering, I thank my lucky stars that it was there. I was forced to either break or fight it. I was forced to take a drug, a remedy, a short-term cure, but I said no. I beat it.
Well, I checked out sixpartsseven and I have to say as soon as I pushed Play, I become overwhelmed with a feeling of hope in my heart... it's that kind of music that makes me think, that makes me drive, that makes me, me. There is a melodic/indie japanese band called bluebeard that I need to send you the album too, it's been my bible for the past few weeks and was very hard to obtain. This kind of music seems to rely more on emotion and drive, rather than too much snotty lyrics and how well you can solo. And yes, I do hear a lot of what me and you used to fiddle around with, especially when it was just jamming in the shed. The melodic emotional music that would build up to a certain point and never make it there.... leaving you desperate for more. And that's how it is. We're searching for some end that we will never acquire. This is the end. gotta kick a lot of ass while we're here."
