(no subject)
i was thinking, as i sometimes do. bout my old house, and crummy stuff like that. I remember one nite staring at the house across the street. My first best friend, raymond. We used to play ninja turtles. He moved, when i was in prolly about 4th grade. We grew up and lost touch. and then, he died. Kid was what, 17? I dont think about it often, im still kinda weirded out by it. Even thought it was a few years ago, it still is fresh in my mind. I didnt even go to his funeral. I dont know why. I never go to funerals. Never have. If theres such a thing as karma. I hope people show up at mine. im not going to say rip. because i know he isnt, dying at 17 is not peaceful at all.