(no subject)
It's strange to me that those who get convicted for selling cocaine an methamphetamines to undercover police officers are really the sweet ones. Talk about two personae. Yeats would have had a field day with this man. He was one of the nicest people ever. And even though he's been running from the law for 5 years (which I did not know the extent of until I recently read his newspaper article), he was the man who protected me from the other unconvicted bad people. He's crashed other people's vehicles, stolen televisions, ransacked houses, and created anarchy. But he never harmed me, threatened me, pursued me, or anything negative. The only thing he's ever been to me is a friend. A super nice friend.
On that note, I can't help to think about the crazy things I've experienced over 22 years. I've never been involved, but I guess I just don't have the best of luck. I've had weapons waived in my face, known people who were murdered yet ruled as suicidal, been in extreme proximity to 6 lethal gunshots, seen a dead body, been robbed 16 times, watched people throw their lives into the hands of hardcore drugs, befriended exotic dancers, met alcoholics, seen people steal other people's drugs, witnessed arson, been present during driveby shootings, faught The Machine, held "hot" weaponry (I didn't know until I saw the scratched off serial numbers), hit the floor because someone was shooting near my front door, and I've found two crackpipes in my life. And I turned out just fine. I married a great man. We live in a beautiful house. And one day when I can make better sense of my extreme bad luck, I'll write novels and poems that may inspire other young people in similar situations to stay angelic in the pits of hell. I must say that I am quite proud of myself for turning out the way I did, considering my circumstances.
On that note, I can't help to think about the crazy things I've experienced over 22 years. I've never been involved, but I guess I just don't have the best of luck. I've had weapons waived in my face, known people who were murdered yet ruled as suicidal, been in extreme proximity to 6 lethal gunshots, seen a dead body, been robbed 16 times, watched people throw their lives into the hands of hardcore drugs, befriended exotic dancers, met alcoholics, seen people steal other people's drugs, witnessed arson, been present during driveby shootings, faught The Machine, held "hot" weaponry (I didn't know until I saw the scratched off serial numbers), hit the floor because someone was shooting near my front door, and I've found two crackpipes in my life. And I turned out just fine. I married a great man. We live in a beautiful house. And one day when I can make better sense of my extreme bad luck, I'll write novels and poems that may inspire other young people in similar situations to stay angelic in the pits of hell. I must say that I am quite proud of myself for turning out the way I did, considering my circumstances.