worst headache ever
I walked to the Walgreens and bought Tylenol pm because my head and neck hurt so bad.
I stopped getting my pain prescription filled because I was still having pain when I took them, and I have less pain and more energy now that I am experiencing stable weather patterns and more sun. We had a big front move through and everybody in the city has a headache.
Also, pain meds were messing with my energy levels and creativity. I wanted to get off meds last year but wasn't able to do it. It took a couple months and I went through withdrawl (the usual, three days of sweating and twitching ect), but I am getting by on aleve and tonight, tylenol pm. Which is probably going to render me unconscious here pretty soon.
I am writing. A lot. I managed 4,000+ words in one pass last Wednesday.
I have a three book arc to fill in. I have lots of plot lines and some are pretty defined in my mind, they play like movie reels in my mind. I write them out and another takes it place. One came out like a movie script. I dunno why. I have to adapt it to look like a novel, I think because it was narrative driven, two men having this intense conversation in the salon of a yacht. Very gentrified, and dangerous at the same time.
I jogged this week. I intend to do it three times this week too.
A friend of mine from a long time ago keeps me up on the goings on back in da 'hood. She called me in 2007 when I was still there to tell me a guy I know was shot dead in his own home. His other brother was there, and a friend. At some point a guy was arrested but the police let him go because of lack of evidence. I don't think the guy could have done it because there was no forced entry, they let their killer in or he was able to open the door normally. Also he was one guy and the men in the house were heavily armed and violent. And in their own home. This young dude that was brought in apparently had been seen walking down the street earlier that day and had previously had words with one brother.
My friend is upset about no one being brought to justice. I knew R.T. and I am here to tell you he had a taste for drugs, violence, and guns. And hookers. Many people considered him a liar and general blowhard. I think the police have an idea what they were into, and if I were them, I would use whatever evidence and knowledge that came out of the investigation to catch bigger fish. There is no statute of limitations on murder.
It's funny how people go all soft when somebody has died. All the sudden their faults seem to fall away. They become exempt from their past. Which makes sense, the living need to move on with their lives and carrying bad debt from the dead is not a way to forward.
I can't imagine that the police would be able to do much. There wasn't any blood that didn't match the victims. They were all killed in a manner that suggests to me that there was more than one gunman, and they knew them. Let them in. Maybe they were trading arms. Maybe it was meth and they infringed on the competition. I'm kind of leaning that way. They liked meth. Time was when people did it to be sociable. Those days are over. One brother who wasn't there was incarcerated, and another was working as a doorman at the topless bar.
It's hard for the police to solve crimes against such an upright and law abiding family. (sarcasm on)
I don't see the hallmarks of gangbangers. It looks like a hit. It went down fast. Two men took single shots to the head, and the third got up from the table where they were playing poker and was moving when he was taken down. I don't know how many shots were fired, and I have not seen the autopsy reports. Because I refuse to request them. I know I could, and in six weeks or so they would be sent to me.
I don't like these people and I don't care who killed them. I don't care that their killers have not been found.
I think RT finally bit off more than he could chew, and instead of accepting the stand down he ran his mouth. And it got shot off.
I can't tell anybody I think this because RT is now a perfect angel and his death was a tragedy. His surviving brother (who was a dick to me and I avoided) is not coping. I feel sorry for him.
But I am not sorry I left those people so far behind that a friend in the US Virgin Islands had to call me to tell me about it.
I might live longer.
But seriously folks, don't sell drugs. Or guns. Or do meth. Because if you do, and you are mysteriously murdered in your own home, with no forced entry, and nobody hears the gunshots...somebody just finds you dead in your home the next day, the police won't be able to give your relatives much closure. And they won't want to.
I stopped getting my pain prescription filled because I was still having pain when I took them, and I have less pain and more energy now that I am experiencing stable weather patterns and more sun. We had a big front move through and everybody in the city has a headache.
Also, pain meds were messing with my energy levels and creativity. I wanted to get off meds last year but wasn't able to do it. It took a couple months and I went through withdrawl (the usual, three days of sweating and twitching ect), but I am getting by on aleve and tonight, tylenol pm. Which is probably going to render me unconscious here pretty soon.
I am writing. A lot. I managed 4,000+ words in one pass last Wednesday.
I have a three book arc to fill in. I have lots of plot lines and some are pretty defined in my mind, they play like movie reels in my mind. I write them out and another takes it place. One came out like a movie script. I dunno why. I have to adapt it to look like a novel, I think because it was narrative driven, two men having this intense conversation in the salon of a yacht. Very gentrified, and dangerous at the same time.
I jogged this week. I intend to do it three times this week too.
A friend of mine from a long time ago keeps me up on the goings on back in da 'hood. She called me in 2007 when I was still there to tell me a guy I know was shot dead in his own home. His other brother was there, and a friend. At some point a guy was arrested but the police let him go because of lack of evidence. I don't think the guy could have done it because there was no forced entry, they let their killer in or he was able to open the door normally. Also he was one guy and the men in the house were heavily armed and violent. And in their own home. This young dude that was brought in apparently had been seen walking down the street earlier that day and had previously had words with one brother.
My friend is upset about no one being brought to justice. I knew R.T. and I am here to tell you he had a taste for drugs, violence, and guns. And hookers. Many people considered him a liar and general blowhard. I think the police have an idea what they were into, and if I were them, I would use whatever evidence and knowledge that came out of the investigation to catch bigger fish. There is no statute of limitations on murder.
It's funny how people go all soft when somebody has died. All the sudden their faults seem to fall away. They become exempt from their past. Which makes sense, the living need to move on with their lives and carrying bad debt from the dead is not a way to forward.
I can't imagine that the police would be able to do much. There wasn't any blood that didn't match the victims. They were all killed in a manner that suggests to me that there was more than one gunman, and they knew them. Let them in. Maybe they were trading arms. Maybe it was meth and they infringed on the competition. I'm kind of leaning that way. They liked meth. Time was when people did it to be sociable. Those days are over. One brother who wasn't there was incarcerated, and another was working as a doorman at the topless bar.
It's hard for the police to solve crimes against such an upright and law abiding family. (sarcasm on)
I don't see the hallmarks of gangbangers. It looks like a hit. It went down fast. Two men took single shots to the head, and the third got up from the table where they were playing poker and was moving when he was taken down. I don't know how many shots were fired, and I have not seen the autopsy reports. Because I refuse to request them. I know I could, and in six weeks or so they would be sent to me.
I don't like these people and I don't care who killed them. I don't care that their killers have not been found.
I think RT finally bit off more than he could chew, and instead of accepting the stand down he ran his mouth. And it got shot off.
I can't tell anybody I think this because RT is now a perfect angel and his death was a tragedy. His surviving brother (who was a dick to me and I avoided) is not coping. I feel sorry for him.
But I am not sorry I left those people so far behind that a friend in the US Virgin Islands had to call me to tell me about it.
I might live longer.
But seriously folks, don't sell drugs. Or guns. Or do meth. Because if you do, and you are mysteriously murdered in your own home, with no forced entry, and nobody hears the gunshots...somebody just finds you dead in your home the next day, the police won't be able to give your relatives much closure. And they won't want to.