i feel so damn inspired now. Like. Nothing, anything. it's unbelievable. so much to say, no right way of saying it and i feel overwhelmed. i wanna cry and sing and scream and dance and fight. A mad adrenalin rush. At times life is hard, but we all know things always get better. On my journey to Wellington, my journey home, i met an old friend i didn't remember existed. In fact, i have known him for the last 10years. i can't remember where we met, or even if we met, but he was familiar. He was the feel of the amazing relief, safety. The feel of wanting to kill and wanting to love and everything in between. Basically, the feel of good confusion. i didn't know his name. So a song came on, i'm not sure which one. A brother song. He said "change the song, my mate hung themself to this". i opened my STUPIDFUCKEN mouth and said, "who [name]?", to be a smartass. Because ofcourse noone knew this person, and if they did, then he'd been forgotten, just not by me. Then this guy goes "..he didn't hang himself". And i've known he never hung himself. Story went that he knocked some chick up. Dad of chick sent people out to kill him. He came over to cousin's (where i was that night). We asked what was wrong, as tears of frightening ran down his dark cheeks. i was worried- i hadn't seen him like this before. He was my tree, my stronger limb. He asked if uncle was home. Uncle was out getting us stuff. We said he'd be back soon, stay for a hot drink and have a spot or two. The knives are piping hot, ready for you. But he ran off. And the night stole him from us. We never saw him again. His young brother found him on the washing line the next morning. i never went to his funeral, or visited him since. It's stupid, i know. Between leaving us and dying, apparently, he got chased and ran into countdown, asking to call the PIGFUCKENSHITS. countdown kicked him out because he was "drunk and stoned". Bullshit. He hid in a bush and killed himself. (Apparently) BUT WAIT THERE'S MORE.. This guy i met (mentioned way early, up there ^^), says he didn't hang himself. i said "don't fucken tell me that. you know what happened to him. don't fucken talk shit". And i ran off and cried. This guy ran after me. i didn't know him. as far as i knew, i'd never met him. but his face looked so familiar. He grabbed me and hugged me and i heard his voice choke out a sob or two. He told me "sis, we're too drunk. let's have a good night, i will tell you the truth when we are sober." Well, no sober truth came out. It was all drunktalk, and i was okay with it. This guy showed me a stab wound in his neck, from a screwdriver. He was there that night, he knew what happened. And he knew who did it. The guy who killed him just "disappeared". i will be home soon enough, and i will confront Stephen's grave. For the first time. --------------------------------------------------------------- On other notes, i have been applying for jobs. And i rekon i'll get one soon enough. i also want to study. i will love life as much as i can, because time goes too quickly. omg. i was thinking tooday about somethin funny. In particular, a blood soaked mattress from ages ago because i stupid fucken cut my stupid finger. Well. i didn't. r0bness did. but i'm not going into it. fuck. i was a litle slut. holy shit. honestly, i dunno what posessed me. now i'm the opposite. my god. i need to change back. fuck feelings, fuck meaning, just fuck instead. who even cares. i'm too young to deal with shit. drama, and emotion and anything. i should be doing what i've always done. act happy and go along, be strong, because inside i know, many feel this way. children. don't stop dancing. believe you can fly away. away. wow. big reminiscing.