(no subject)
i got the dreaded phone call today. i was swinging on the swings and just about to mention how my stomach was turning and i was feeling sick. before i could even say anything, my mom called me. "he's gone" is all she could say. then in the typical hall fashion proceeded to yell at me cuz i told her no he isnt. and she was like "dont argue with me yes he is"... i have strange intuition i think. something was making my stomach turn and feel sick. i think that something was my grandpa. RIP Bumpa 7-11-05 maybe ill get a tattoo of that and become even more mexican-ish. or wear an airbrushed shirt in memory. either one would give me street cred. i just feel like an asshole cuz i wasnt there. i should have been there. i should have seen him one last time. i said my goodbye's on sunday but i feel like i should have been there to say them today. i will say it one last time; fuck cancer. even free slurpees at 7/11 suck now. ill always remember this day. sad. i have to write my funeral speech. its going to be intense. i think im going to take wednesday off work and write all day then go to class. i didnt go to class today cuz i just registered and i dont have any books or materials, so had i went to class i would have missed that fateful phone call. god damn, its weird how things work out sometimes i think. my life is a movie, one where all the characters are connected and eventually the story plays out. i wish we could all live forever. come on down