Dude, Where's My Car?

Apr 10, 2005 14:57

I've been happy, high, landscaping my backyard. Yesterday I walked along the side of my house and almost started crying because the people in my house, the music radiating from it, the beauty of the way a summer afternoon feels when you realize who your TRUE family is... it all took my by surprise. I am comfortable. I am happy.
Then, at 7, directly after quite a few hits on the pipe, I started wondering where my car was. I thought my mom may have taken it. I hoped I was just too high to realize where it was.

It was stolen.

We searched town. Remember Rocky and Brian Scott? They were the ones who stole and wrecked two BMWs before we left for Cabo. Remember when Brian was found sleeping in my shed afterwards? Is this their way of getting back at me for not protecting them? Is this what I get for leaving my keys in my car with the doors unlocked? I can't go to class now. Blessing in disguise? Everyone says that I should just stay high until it's found. That sounds tempting. Everyone frowns for me and it doesn't help. But it's nice to know that in the connections I've made, I now have people who share my pain with me. I just want to go get cool rocks and put them in my trunk and continue to build my awesome garden. Ah. Se la vi.
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