you mean everything to me ;

Wow, it's been a while hasn't it! There's quite a bit to report. Where to start.. Hm, well I suppose we'll start from this weekend and work backward. I'm hanging out with Wayne today after he's off work. He's my newest friend I met through Jen, as he is Mike's son. He's a good kid. Football team, police academy, all that good stuff. So this weekend all I did was veg and watch movies since I had the whole thing off- with the exception of Friday night. Brenda was gone for the weekend so I stayed home so nan wouldn't be alone.

Worked Friday and Thursday, got into it with Melody for being a bitch about SC. Wednesday went to a H.E.L.P (Housing Homeless Education Learning Party) conference and met some new people. Did service projects on the streets and at Romero House all afternoon. Very eye opening, I loved it. Met Jayme Hall (founder of Outflow) who is an incredible inspiration!!

Wednesday evening I got all dolled up and went to the theater with Alex. We attended Jekyll and Hyde and Kyle, Marie, Ruth, Mary, and Jake were all there as well! Oh, and Mr. Killin of course, hehe. Anyway, I fell in love with their take on the novel! Very original, it was a ball. Then Alex drove me home and that was that. Last weekend I got crazy high, fell into a hole with Sarah, ran from cops with a can of liquor in each hand, and partied. Oh, and saw the Santa Claus parade. That's about it. Just working and school aside from that.

Cabaret is coming up on December tenth. I think Alex and Wayne both want me to go with them so I'm not sure who to go with.. Oh well, we'll deal with that later I suppose. Oh, and I go back to the doctor's on the fourteenth. Oh, and Justin left for BASIC! today in Quebec. Slightly heartbroken, but hey, what are you gonna do. Oh well.. I also miss talking to Fabio, but he couldn't care less about that. So that's it I guess. Here's a written piece from a while back, enjoy. OH! And just about all my Christmas shopping is done, pumped!

"He never believed in people. The homeless lining the street in front of the Gucci store brought tears to his eyes. November rain pouring on the half frozen prostitutes desperate for a few bucks never failed to move his sympathy. In a world of six billion people, it is incredibly easy to be alone, to be desperate. He was no better than the mother in the alley trying to make enough for rent or the cocaine addict pouding the pavement for his next score.

He had completely lost faith. The human race was going no where, was nothing. Logically, this meant he was nothing as well. That did not come as new news to him. Since the age of twelve he had been screaming his lungs out yet had remained invisible to a world of six billion people. This was a God send. This was fate. This was right. So why now was he shouting out at injustice?"

He lay now with his chest violently ripped open, his hammering heart and pulsing muscles visible to him. The late December rain trickled down his cheeks and skin. The woman who had pulled the knife on him was long gone, along with his wallet. He did not feel the stabbing cold of the rain drops, nor the toughness of the cobblestones beneath his skull. He turned his head gently, shadows and the rain water played tricks on his eyes, but he made out the figure of his hand laying crumpled beside him. Slowly, painfully, he touched his finger tips together and rubbed. Crimson flowed freely over his palm and fingers from the defensive wounds he had won. He wondered vaguely if his hand was bleeding but could not focus his thoughts. He both felt and heard a scream begin to well up in his throat. Panic began to swell within him. He couldn't move, he had to get up, had to get home. His mother would be up and waiting, she would start to worry. This was wrong, so wrong. Life had been cruel to him, but he had to believe there was a way out, that there was something out there for him. He tried to cry out but only a flow of blood burst from his open lips. At this he began to wail. He screamed out for life. It was the one of the most raw and heartfelt cries to ever echo the streets of the small suburban town. Life, he wanted to live. He did not want to die. No one was coming, no one heard him. He did not want to die.