Gorillas are Skeptical of Changes in Their Cages
I'm still alive, obviously, if you're reading this (I'm speaking from beyond the grave....woooOOOoooo) um...up until recently, life has been one giant, festering, herpes-infested shithole, but things MIGHT (mind you, might) be starting to look up...for once. I just found out that I'm NOT going to jail, which is a joyous thing, even cause enough to break out into a small chorus of trappings and tribulations and all things sweet and fuzzy, yet still my head hangs low...but I'll get to that in a moment. I FINALLY got my car fixed, hopefully for good this time (my new car..not the one that exploded into a giant ball of flame) Still don't have a name for her yet...which is why I'm here, at the wonderful Greenwood Library. I know it's a her, I just need to look up some things, and find something suitable to her tastes. Now on to what's been buggin' moi (that's me for the french illeterate) We're moving within a month, and we know where we're going. But, I'm using the term "we" very loosely. My parents are moving, and I'm tagging along for the ride. There have been many talks that they've had with me over the course of the last few days (weeks, months, what-have-you) all about getting me out of the house. When we move, my room will be located in a small corner of the guest bedroom, meaning that I'm getting a bed...that's it. None of my stuff is to be unpacked (tv, books, xbox, everything) they are to be kept in an unclean and slightly damp corner of the basement as motivation for having me spread my wings and fly into the sun. Now that my car's fixed, that my actually be a possibility to finally get out. It IS long overdue, I will admit...but money doesn't come easy for me...and it stays around far less time than I would like. On top of all that, Julie hasn't spoken to me in going on 2 months...no letters, no emails, no correspondance whatsoever. My first thought is that I've done something, though what, I have no idea. Then I begin to get worried. What if something's happened? Either way, I've heard neither peep nor squeel from her, and that's weighing a bit heavy. I've sent her 2 letters in the last month (not a lot, I know, but I also don't have a lot of time..I'm constantly working) and have receiving nothing in return. I'm afraid that she's moved on and, considering how things have been lately, may have been expected, it still hurts. But from here, what is there that I can do? Work beckons once again to pull yet another allnighter (after working an alldayer) so I leave this place of dusty books and vintage leather bindings to hold down my piece of the great industry of the shipping and receiving of health care accessories. Adieu, adieu, to yieu and yieu and yieu!