December 9th, 2000


Unjustified Suicide

hear the sound of scissors as the irrevelant first half of this entry is cut.

First off, how can anyone consider suicide? What right have you to be so miserable? You have been given a beautiful chance, a wonderful opportunity. In the great expanse of time which is eternity, you are here. You are alive, here and now in 2000. You will only get a tiny flash of time, a single heartbeat of the universe, and then you will be gone. Why cut your precious existance short?

You have no excuse for whatever situation you are in. Get out of it. If you have an abusive father, call the police. Get him locked up. A foster home would be better. If you're poor, do well in school. Maybe you can ride on a scholarship somewhere. At the very least, you'll have enough basic skills to get a job. Drugs? Check into rehab. No matter how poor a spot you're in, you can do something about it. If you can't think of anything, leave me a note and I will tell you what to do.

You need to find yourself. If you don't know who you are, you can't expect to know anything else, either. If you don't like yourself, consider a change in lifestyle, not an end. Everything resonates with its own vibe...find yours.

You are surrounded by beauty. Open your eyes and see it. Outside, the trees are shedding their leaves of gold and red and brown. The proud skeleton remains, defiant and refusing to fall as it stands naked to the cold. The snow is falling. In each snowflake is a city, beautiful and sparkling clean. The trees will be green again. Let nature take you back.

It doesn't have to hurt. Why cut yourself when you give your pain away? Pick up a pebble, and whisper to it all your fears and worries. Then throw the stone away into a stream, a lake, a river. As the pebble sinks and rolls away, it takes your problems with you. You're free. As the rock you tossed will be washed clean and smooth, so have you been cleansed.

You are what you make of yourself. You choose your destiny. Go in peace, seek the Lord. God will not abandon those who ask sincerely for His forgiveness and help.

But He will turn his back on those who throw His greatest gift away. Only He gave life, and only He should have the power to take it.

Taming of the Shrew

"Please, Davy, please, I need a ride to school." I beg and plead.
"What for?" he drawls, sprawled out on the couch. I still can't get over how much he's erased his accent. He doesn't sound English now unless he really wants to.
"I need to see the play. Taming of the Shrew. I promised."
He sits up straight and puts the deck of cards he's been shuffling down. "Get your mum to take you."
"I can't. She's at a concert. I don't know where my da is."
"Tough luck."
"Davy, please! I'm begging. I need to see this play."
"Sorry, but I can't take you."
"Can't or won't?" I demand.
"..." I grab his hand. It's so warm. "Your fingers are like ice, Sam."
"C'mon, Davy. You'll have fun - Shakespeare's English! I mean, how British can you get?"
"Just 'cuz you and your Asians latch onto everything vaguely related to your culture doesn't mean I do the same."
"Why are you so mean to me?"
"Why are you so mean to me?" he imitates, twirling a finger around an imaginary lock of hair.
"I never do that!" I'm indigant. I'm not a cheerleader, after all. Just a undepressed Death Angel. "What's the real reason why you won't take me?"
"I just won't because I'm a horrible Englishman with bad teeth! Besides, I don't want to flaunt my datelessness."
"It's Saturday night, kiddo. Davy doesn't like staying home on Saturdays."
"You are such a...a..." I can't think of a good word. "Idiot! The whole point of going to the play is so that you aren't home alone!"
"No, and that's my final answer, Regis." He escorts me to the door and kicks me out.
"What was that all about?" I yell. He doesn't answer, but I can hear his guitar. He's tuning it. "JERK!"
"SHREW!" A faint voice shouts from the interior of the house. I kick the door and go home.
Now, what WAS that all about?