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 |  I write, therefore I am |
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I write, therefore I am. I am nothing special; just a common man with common thoughts, and I've led a common life. There are no monuments dedicated to me and my name will soon be forgotten. But in one respect I have succeeded as gloriously as anyone who's ever lived: I've loved another with all my heart and soul; and to me, this has always been enough. PLUGS:
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| I have tried repeatedly to continue with Perpetual Rage, or the Chronicles of Gatean, or The Price of Vengeance and I keep running into the same problem. I am afraid. I am afraid that nothing I write now will be as good as the first pieces I have done. That is especially true with the first chapter or two of Perpetual Rage. I am afraid of not writing that well in later chapters, so to save myself that disappointment I can't even attempt to write something new. It has been a long nine years since Kris stood over my shoulder and told me that I had no talent, yet still when I begin to doubt I still hear her standing there breathing laughter down my neck. In those moments of fear sitting before this keyboard, afraid to write something not on the same level as other chapters, that I wonder if maybe she was right. SHe is out of my life yet still she haunts me. I see through my viewings of the usual BLOG suspects that a few of you have done this personality test thingy, so I thought why not be a lemming and make one myself. Since I am not intellegent enough to figure out how to do the link correctly I shall cheat and have you do all of the hardwork. http://kevan.org/johari?view=Solitary+Man Sorry, I ain't too much up on that there computer techanologies. quote; You are what you do. A man is defined by his actions, not his memory. Kuato (Marchall Bell) - Total Recall |
I have recently joined a new group here on WDC that's main function is to help along all of the Newbies here. The group alsto has three sub groups; for short stories, poetry, and one for teens. However the teen group is a little slow in getting off of the ground. SO I figured I would mention it here and a few of you; Shattered, FitzWah could maybe join the teen group and get a few of the other teen members here to join.
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| The mind knows, but the heart won’t listen. It was my mind that made me tell her not to come to me anymore. My mind is tired of the roller coaster she puts my heart on. It was hard to do, to walk away from her, to leave her alone, crying, lost. But my mind made me do it. Still, my heart will not let her go. It holds on to her, too strongly. It will not let go of the past, for hopes that there is a future. The mind knows, but the heart won’t listen. I still dream of her. In my dreams she gives of herself the way I long for her to do in real life. She loves me as much as I love her in return. She smiles when she sees me, laughs at my joke, goes steamy at my touch. The problem is that even in these dreams where I get what I want, where I should be happy and content, I am not. Why? You ask. Well even in my dreams, I know that it is just a dream. That makes it even more devastating. It is hard enough to know in the real world that I will probably never have the love of my life, but to know it in the dream world, where all I should know is that I have her, is just too much. The mind knows and won’t allow the heart to entertain the thought of her, even in a dream. Smart ass mind. So I have spilled most of my story and I have shown that my life has not been in the least enjoyable. I received a private email from someone the other day who said that they were troubled that I could not recall any happy memories, they didn’t seem to think it was healthy. So, for them I will reveal one of the few happy memories. When I was eleven or twelvish, I used to be awakened in the early summer or weekend mornings by a light knocking on my bedroom window. It would be my Uncle Bruce, who was married to my mom’s sister Irene. I would quickly dress and leave a note for my parents that I was gone with my Uncle Bruce to go fishing. We would go to the bait shop and pick up our bait for the day. We would also pick up sodas, chips, mustard, bread, cheese, and bologna. We would grab charcoal, starter fluid, matches, and ice. My Uncle owned a huge boat, called the Boosey. It was enormous and it ran off of a Ford 350 engine. We used to leave the dock well before the sun would rise. By the time the sun managed to break the horizon we would be to our fishing destination, and well into our day or sometimes days of fishing. Let me tell you there is nothing as beautiful as a sunrise out in the middle of the sea with no land mass to disturb the beauty. Nothing but you, the water and the wondrous sky, painted with hues of red, orange, purple, blue, and yellow. I used to live for those mornings. And the nights were nearly as beautiful with it’s sunsets. Those days were wonderful. We used to stay out there for days sometimes. Sleeping in the cabin with our sleeping bags. I used to lay there watching the stars sparkling overhead while I listened to my Uncle and one of his friends talk about them being teenagers. I used to drift off to the soft lapping of water against the sides of the boat and the droning of their voices. I miss those days and I would give anything to be able to go back, just once, to relive them. Just once. quote; There's a time when a man needs to accept that his destiny's lost, the ship has sailed and that only a fool will continue. The truth is I've always been a fool. Young Ed Bloom (Ewan McGregor) - Big Fish |
| Today at work near shift change the night ladies were talking with myself and the afternoon girl after the only other guy who works at the store gave each of them a cherry flavored rose lollipop for Valentine’s day. They started talking about their favorite Valentine’s day. They each shared their favorite days in turn, then back again and finally around one final time. Then they turned on me as a pack and asked me if I had any good Valentine memories. I told them no, but of course that was not an answer that they wanted to hear. So they pushed me, badgered me, taunted me until finally I turned to them more then a little agitated. Okay, would you like to hear about the girl I was seeing that laughed at the two dozen roses I sent her and blushed and smiled and told me how nice they were, then told me that she was moving to Texas with her husband. Or wait, wait, how about the time I was stood up at a nice restaurant, because the girl didn’t want to see me anymore. Or hold on, you’ll like this one. You ready. Okay, now this is good. When Kris and I were together, one Valentine’s Day I made her a nice dinner, Teriyaki chicken, pork, and steak with sauteed mushrooms, onions, and green peppers over steamed rice, with egg rolls and sweet and sour meatballs as an appetizer. When she arrived home from work the table was already set with lit candles and a nice wine. While she ate I ran her a bubble bath and set up a CD player with some slow love songs. I laid out her favorite lingerie and matching bathrobe. Then I ran rose petals from the bedroom door, to the bed where more rose petals were waiting for her with a box of chocolate and a stuffed bear What did I get for my hard work? I’ll tell you. I was told that the food was terrible and over cooked. The candles smelled. The wine was nasty. The bath was too hot and the bathroom was too cold. The music sucked. She didn’t feel like wearing something so revealing. And who, for the love of God, was going to clean up the mess with the rose petals? So tell me are those the memories that you wanted to hear about my Valentine’s Days? Does that make you all frikkin happy now? Have we all shared with eachother now? Are we friends? Do we all cry on each others shoulders? DO we go paint our nails and have a sleep over? Sorry, but they upset me just a little. Didn’t mean to come here and rant. Just sometimes, sometimes I wish people would just let things go. Sometimes there are no good memories. Sometimes, there just aren’t. |
| I find now that my story is told I don't have much to say. FUnny how that works. I hardly remember what was going on before I started my story. Let's see, Monica and I have gone on another couple of dates. I don't see much happening there though. We are just a bit too different. I don't feel a spark, though she is funny, and cute. She doesn't compare to the pedistal. I should really stop doing that, but old habits and all that. Today I was notified by my boss that I am being trained for Head Bookseller, whether I want it or not. It is one step below Assistant Manager and it does come with a pay raise. She said that whether I want it or not I am being groomed for Asst. Manager since the one we have now will be leaving in a year. Before I head off for the night. I want to thank everyone who commented in BLOG and in private during my near month long Diatribe. With all of you behind me it helped push me to get it all out, for that I am grateful. Well I am kind of tyred so I shall be away to napville. Happy Valentines everyone. |
| Quote; Well, the past is gone, I know that. The future isn't here yet, whatever it's going to be. So, all there is, is this. The present. That's it. Don Johnston (Bill Murray) - Broken Flowers I know this is a little different than my normal method of madness, starting off with the quote instead of ending with it. However, I think this quote pretty much sums it all up. If you live in the past, you can’t look forward to the future. If you obsess about the future, you can’t enjoy today. Well my life story is done, for all intents and purposes. Looking back over it all, I find that there aren’t a whole lot of happy memories. It seems that my whole life has been troubled and sad. This was the third time trying to put my life story on paper. I had started twice before only to chicken out and just talk about Kris and Dee. Then one day while going back and rereading some old entries, I found the one about exorcizing demons. In that entry I said that the best way to start is at the beginning. So finally, I swallowed deep, gathered my nerve and went about getting it all out. It troubled me to find that there were only a few happy memories. Were there so few? Or were the other events so bad that I have blocked out the good ones? I don’t know, and I don’t think I ever will. So here I sit alone at night pining for someone to share my life with, yet knowing that it will probably never happen. If it does it will most likely be just one more heartache. It’s hard to have so much love and no one to share it with. Still looking back over my life I wonder how did the person that I am now come to be. My childhood was surrounded by distrust and betrayal. Everyone I have ever cared for either died or abused me. With all that in my past how can I trust someone else not to hurt me all over again? Yet, if I don’t find someone to trust how can I find the love that I so desperately yearn for? The old catch-22. I wonder sitting here typing this out, where did I get my morals? My belief system? My attitude toward others? My hatred of others who would abuse those weaker than them? I had no teacher, save the experiences of my life. But what made me so special that my experiences did a better job raising me than some peoples parents have done in raising them? So what have I learned? I learned that it is too hurtful to keep the demons inside. If you don’t have someone to show your own demons to, write them out as I have. You will be surprised at the freedom you will feel, no matter how hard it is to write them down. I learned that there is nothing in life so bad that you should have to feel it is not worth it to see another day. It’s always worth it. Everyday. Always. I learned that love gets you pain in return, yet that is not a reason to stop searching for it. As the saying goes, it is better to have loved and lost, than to never have loved at all. I learned that the past is prologue, the future is epilogue and the present is the story. So live your story, everyday, to the best of your ability. No matter how bad things seems to get, you can always stand strong and overcome it. Because I believe you can. And belief, belief is power. I also learned that I ramble on sometimes. Sorry about that. Good Night, Sweet Dreams, and I love you all. |
| I am sorry if my last entry upset some people. There have been a few private comments from people angry with me over the way I ended that entry. I apologize to everyone, it was never my intent to upset anyone. I just felt it needed to be seen that before you can stand tall, you have to reach bottom. The gun was empty, all I received was an echoing click, and the damn broke. Deep thick sobs racked my body and I tried to scream but couldn’t. I had reached the end of my rope, but in the back of my mind I knew that if I did not fight to climb back out of it, there would come a day when I would succeed. Slowly I gathered myself together, put the gun away and went back to bed. For the next week I did nothing but sleep. I lost both of my jobs so there was no money coming in. One day while eating lunch at a restaurant I bumped into a acquaintance of mine and Kristina’s. He told me that he was surprised to hear about the two of us breaking up. He then said he was even more surprised to see one of our neighbors Scott move in with her just a few days after I left. So even in the last moment of us being together instead of her being honest, she took that one last moment to try and belittle me again. Two years later Scott and Kristina were married, and he gave her a wedding gift that keeps on giving. I’ll give you a hint it starts with an H. Slowly over time I got better. I was determined to not let my past control my life. I was determined to move past Kristina and get on with my life. I got a job at a comic book store. I had collected comics since I was twelve so it was a natural move for me. The store that I ended up running used to only make a thousand dollars a week. Three month after I took over we were making that much in a Saturday and almost twice that on Sunday. Finally I had found something that had given me a little bit of happiness. Still things didn’t seem to go right for me. The owner came down one week and closed the store in the middle of the night. He had been using the store as a tax write off, but when I started making money like I was, he was no longer able to do so. Still I refused to fall again and I stood tall. I was determined to open a store of my own with the subscribers that the owner carelessly threw away. One of the subscribers heard of my plan and said that he would put up the money and the store would be his, but he wanted to me to handle the running of the store. I was paid a decent salary for doing so. After a year or so I left him to open my own store. Before I burned myself out and ended up weighing almost five hundred pounds. It wasn’t long after I threw my back out getting into the shower that I decided to close the store and get a physical job so that I could lose weight for health reasons. I went back into the furniture business and began to lose weight. Even now years later I am still around three fifty, but I am not near the five hundred pound mark I was. One day while I was walking through a mall I ran into Kristina. Now when we were together she stood about five six and weighed around one hundred and ten. When I ran into her at the mall she weighed near two hundred pounds. When I saw her I started laughing. Of course she became mad and asked me what I was laughing about. I told her that I had just recently lost a bunch of weight and I see that she had found it for me. She slapped me and walked away leaving me laughing. There have been a few girls that I have dated since then. Most of them had broken my heart, but still I stay strong. I will not go back down the paths I have walked before. I refuse, even when things seem their darkest there is always something worth living for. A favorite song, a favorite story, a sunrise, a sunset, the chance to meet that someone special, the chance to be there for someone in need. There is always something to live for. Always. So there were other girls and they too broke my heart. There was Rhonda who I was falling for her and her son. We went on numerous dates and during on of these she told me that next Saturday she couldn’t go out with me because she had a “real” date. I still talk to her son every now and again, I do my best to help him keep his head straight. There was Joy who told me in the middle of a date that she was going back with her boyfriend. There was Dedra who told me that I was the exact type of guy all girls say they want to end up with, but never will. Then there was Colleen who told me that she was tired of meeting guys only to never hear from them again. We met and then I never heard from her again. Of course over the next nine years Dee and I dated and saw eachother off and on. It never worked out between us, and maybe that is for the best. It might not be healthy to love that deeply. Who knows. So here I am now almost thirty five, alone, unmarried, no children. So here I am for the first time with friends that I can really trust. Friends who would stand beside me as I would stand beside them. Then there are the friends I have met here on WDC, who have left me comments; both in BLOG and in private. I will not lie to you and tell you that some of these entries have not been hard to write. I will not lie to you and say that there were days when I didn’t think about stopping. I will not lie and say that there weren’t days when I had to force myself to continue. I thank everyone for reading and commenting. I thank everyone for allowing me to write all this out, believe me it was more for me than for you. There were demons that needed to be exorcised, I think now they are. I have laid bare my soul for all to see There are still days when the darkness tries to creep into my life, but I fight to keep it at bay. There is too much to live for. Too much to see. Too much to do. Too many to help. Too many who need it. The question is, what have I learned?....... |
| ***Be warned in advance, this entry does not end at all on a pleasent note.*** Although every fiber of my being was telling me to take what I could carry and run, I stayed. I found her crying that night and my heart believed in the anguish of her words, but it missed the coldness of her heart. The funny thing is I have heard people talk about someone in a bad relationship and how they are surprised that someone would stay there taking abuse. I know from experience, until you have walked a mile in their dirty sneakers, who are you to judge. After the night when I first came home Kris never again told me that she loved me, even though I told her that I loved her everyday. We stayed in the apartment until the lease was up, then, because of the memories left behind we moved to a townhouse. It was nice and spacious. Most of my friends were gone now. Having been friend with Craig before I came along. So after the big affair most of them stayed friends with him and not me. So I was all alone with Kris as my only friend, with the occasional appearance by Tim. After awhile even that diminished. Then the lies started. Talking one night Kris told me that part of the reason the thing happened with Craig was because of money. So when I got a new job with a furniture company I told her it paid more than it did. I told her it paid enough that if she would just pay half of the rent on the townhouse I could cover all of the other bills. It was all a lie, but I did it to keep her. I couldn’t bare the thought of losing her. I couldn’t bare the thought of facing the world alone. So I lied, and lies have a funny way of catching up with you. Besides the lies I told I did everything I could to make Kris happy. I used to have the house clean when she came home from work. Dinner was almost always on the table. Clothes were always washed and put away. There were baths run, and backs washed, legs shaved. I used to rub her back until she fell asleep. For the next four years of our relationship Kristina was verbally abusive to me. I was constantly on the other end of, I don’t know why I stay with you. This is why you don’t have any friends. This is why no one likes you. This is why they all talk behind your back. This is why my friend won’t come over, they don’t like you. Why do you bother writing, you are terrible at it. Why do you waste your time, you could have been doing something else. We had been together for eight years and it was our anniversary. I came home excited, only to be berated and belittle as soon as I walked int the door. After changing I went outside and sat on the curb, I thought that she would come outside to see what was wrong. It was raining and she stayed inside. When I walked back into the house she started at me again. She said that she knew I was outside waiting for her, but she wasn’t coming outside in the rain. The stinging in my heart started, very small like a pin prick, but very painful. She told me that this wasn’t working out. The lies over the money was too much for her to take. She wanted me gone. She was tired of me. She had just used me to get her away from home. She detested me. She never loved me. She didn’t even think that the child her parents made her abort was mine. I disgusted her. My touch made her skin crawl. I sat there tears burning there way from my eyes down my cheeks, my heart ripping and shredding in my chest, an engagement ring resting uncomfortably in my pocket. I went to my mom’s and I told her that Kris made me leave. I told her that it was my fault because I lied about money. I told her that I needed a place to stay. I asked her why? Why did everyone I love leave me? Why did the more love I tried to give, seem to cause more salt to be thrown in the open wound. For the next three days I did nothing but sleep and cry. It felt like I was being constricted. There was no where to turn for comfort. I was alone. I was thrown from my circle of friends after the affair because they were mostly Craig’s friends. There was no one else around for me. I just wanted it all to go away. I wanted to disappear never to be heard from again. I wished that I was the one who choked on a plastic wrapped piece of candy instead of Cathy all those years ago. At least then all the pain that was my life would not have happened. All I ever wanted was to be loved. On the radio there was a song playing by a band called, When In Rome. The song was called, I Promise You I Will. It used to be our song back when Kris first became pregnant. Hearing the song was too much. I couldn’t take it anymore. No more tears, no more wishes of a different past, no more pain, no more sorrow, no more loneliness, no more. I walked into my mother and step-fathers room, removed his extra gun from the closet, put it in my mouth and pulled the trigger. quote; We have reached a verdict, your honor. This man's heart is deficient. He loves, but his love is worth nothing. Prior (Justin Kirk) - Angel's In America |
| That first night on the road I walked until my feet burned. I walked, head down, with the strap of my dufflebag slung over my shoulder. There was no idea in my head where I was going. I just was. I managed to make it to a truck stop and while standing in the parking lot I convinced a truck driver to give me a ride across the Bridge Tunnel. At the first gas station, I thanked him and headed back out onto the road. I was back home, but I would not stay there. I managed to stop by Elaine’s house to say goodbye. Dee was there and we got into a huge argument. When she asked me where I was going and I told her that I didn’t know, she tried to convince me to stay with her. I was tired and my body ached. I asked her for how long. She was confused and asked me what I meant by that. I told her that it was not a difficult question, how long did she want me to stay? Would it be until she thought I was too serious about her? Would it be until she grew tired of me? Would it be until she found someone else? How long would I be welcome in her house and in her bed? How long!!! She flinched with each question and asked me why I was acting that way. I said I was acting that way because I have loved her since I was fourteen, but I was only good enough for her when it benefitted her I screamed at her that she should have been mine, that Dallas should have been mine. I watched her leave without trying to stop her. I had hurt her, deeply. Worse still, I wanted to. I wanted for her to hurt as I hurt. Elaine never passed judgement on me that night. She asked me what was I planning to do? She asked if I needed a ride anywhere, or if I needed money? I told her no. I slept that night on her sofa. I was gone at daybreak. I was a rambling man. I went where my feet took me. I didn’t shave, I showered when I could, and I ate when I was hungry, which was rarely. For three weeks I lived off the road, until I awakened one morning, stiff, dirty and hungry. That day I decided to head back home. When I arrived back home I had no where to go so I found myself on Kristina’s doorstep. She answered the door and burst into tears. She grabbed hold of me a hugged me hard enough to hurt. I told her that I would not be staying I just wanted to get some clothes before I went to my mother’s house. She said fine, but led me to the bathroom to take a shower. As I stood under the flowing hot water I started to cry. I had left, yet here I was again, back with all the memories that were so painful. I don’t know how long I stayed under the water, and I don’t know how long Kris had stood there listening, but when I pulled back the shower curtain she was standing there tears in her eyes as well. She held out a towel for me to step into and she help to dry me off. Neither one of us spoke. Part of me wanted to grab her and shake her. It wanted to scream in her face why. Part of me wanted to take her and feel her against me. It wanted to love her and cry against her smooth skin. Neither one of us spoke. She sat me down on the toilet and I tried to speak. She told me to not say anything. Walking in front she was shaking a can of shaving cream. I watched as she filled her hand and covered my face. Slowly she began to shave away three weeks worth of growth. When she was done she wiped my face with a warm towel and led me to the bedroom. She undressed and pulled away my towel. When we were done I fell into a deep dreamless sleep. I awakened to find her sitting beside me in the dark. She was crying. She told me that she was sorry, that she loved me. She told me that she needed me, that she had missed me. She told me that she had been scared because no one knew where I was. She told me that she was scared because a week after I was gone she had miscarried. My head told me to run, my heart bade me to stay. I stayed and in the end I paid for it. quote; Dear God, make me a bird. So I could fly far. Far far away from here. Young Jenny (Hanna Hall) - Forrest Gump |
| Is everyone comfortable? Are you enjoying yourself? Are there plenty of snacks and drink? Good, I am glad to hear it. We have traveled far the group of us and my life had been layed before you, for all to see. This entry almost didn't make it in. I was going to skip by it, but then I thought, I have been honest about everything else, I would be doing a disservice to myself if I passed it by. So here it is. In answer to a recent statement; there are no happy endings. As you all know by now, my childhood was mostly nonexistent. I went seemingly from five to adult in the blink of an eye. My childhood was marred by death and witnessed molestations. There were two choice I could have made; one, was to stay the child and try to make if from day to day, two, bury the child in the back of my mind and become a “young adult”. I buried the child deep in the furthest corner of my mind. The only problem with that, is sometimes, sometimes the dead rise again. Whether you like it or not. There was an audible snap in my head the morning after learning that Kris and Craig were sleeping together and learning that she was pregnant with what might have been my child, or might not have been. There was an audible snap and I retreated to the darkest corner of my mind and I refused to come out of hiding. The dead had risen and the child that was long ago buried in my mind had returned. My body was there, but only the child remained. Kris left the bedroom and went into the bathroom to shower for work. As soon as the bathroom door shut I was off of the floor, bolting into the bedroom. I picked a framed picture of her from off of the dresser, hugged it to myself and curled up into a ball on the bed. She came into the room after the shower, when she found me in the bed with her picture she tried to pull it from me. I screamed and scurried away from her into a corner of the room. She came toward me and I began to scream over and over, no, no, no, no, no. After a few minutes she gave up and left for work saying over her shoulder as she left, I don’t need this shit. It was the strangest feeling. It was like an out of body experience. It was like I was watching myself and not being able to do anything about it. In my head my voice was telling me to stop it, to snap out of it. My voice sounded so very distant. I ignored it. Once more I was the child with no one to hold me. I was the baby with no one to love me. I was the infant with no one to tell me that everything would be all right. Sometime later my friend Tim called to see how things were going, because Craig had told him what had happened. I answered the phone and when Tim mentioned my name I told him that Larry was no here at the moment. He laughed for a minute, but when I told him that my name was Eddie he became very serious. The whole time on the phone I was screaming for him to hear me, but it was a distant sound inside my head. A knock came from the door and I opened it to let Tim in. He had left work to come and check up on me. I ran from him as he walked in and sat down along the wall in the living room holding the picture to my chest and I began to rock slowly back and forth. He pulled a chair from the kitchen table and he sat in front of me. He asked me what I was holding and I told him it was a picture of my girlfriend. He asked if he could see it and I shook my head no, while I gripped the picture tighter. In my mind I was crying and screaming for help, but the more I cried and screamed the further and further the sound seemed. I was begging for help and falling deeper into the black abyss of my mind. Tim asked again to see the picture, he told me that he didn’t want to hold it, he just wanted to see who it was. I turned the picture around, for him to see. He told me that she was very pretty. I told him that she was, but she was older than me. Then he asked me how old I was. I told him I was five. Tim stood up then and walked away. He didn’t know what to do. I could hear and see everything that was going on around me, but it felt like the edges were blurry. Almost like I was starring down a long tunnel. I spoke when Tim spoke to me, but I did not recognize the voice I heard. It wasn’t mine and in my mind I was yelling out that it wasn’t me talking, there was just no one to listen. I don’t know exactly how long Tim sat with me that day, but I love him for it. He could have turned away leaving me to my own devices, but he didn’t. Finally Tim did the only thing he could think of to do. He squat down before me and slapped me across the face, hard, it snapped my head back against the wall and I let go of the picture. I came off of the floor at him in a rage, fighting against every horrid thing that had happened in my past. I flew into a tirade and began to tear up the living room. I wanted to hurt everyone and everything as much as I had been hurt. I wanted to maim, beat, abuse, and destroy everyone so they could feel the pain and agony in my heart. I wanted to die, to fade away, to disappear. The next thing I knew Tim was hugging me against him and I fought. I was hitting his back, I was screaming, I was squirming. He held me against him and told me that everything would be all right. He told me that it was okay. He told me to let it all go. I fought against him, against letting go. Finally I started to cry and he held me. Once more the child that I had been was buried. A little deeper this time, but he was buried, deep in the back of my mind. Deep where the voice isn’t heard anymore. He had his attempt at freedom and once again he was gone. I was all that remained. When Kristina came home from work that night, I was gone. I packed a bag, took three hundred dollars out of the bank, and like an old memory I was gone..... quote; When I was going up the stairs, I met a man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today, I wish, I wish he'd go away. Ed (John Cusack) - Identity |
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