I miss him. I wish he would bless our ears again. Godspeed to him, wherever he is.
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There are so many beautiful things happening in my life. I can feel his light in my heart for the first time in months. I've almost finalized a music education program for our kids at work! I'm going to be a teacher, a music teacher!
This is it! I feel love I have never felt. I'm finally making a difference again... I'm doing the right thing. I can make the world better, even if just a small part of it. I'm doing it. I can make you all so proud. I want to see you all smile again. I want to make somebody smile again.
Every time I make my coworkers laugh, I feel like I'm really there again. It feels like I can still do good. I just want to make people happy. I don't want anything else.
And isn't that so terrible? What a sick joke!
Like, choke me please, the regime is really closing in these days. You can't go to sleep without hearing the corn fed gestapo breathing in your walls. They've got a military occupation in DC, so now I won't be able to bother my cousin down there any time soon.
Ugh... It's exhausting, how do you people do it? I asked that little Incubus, he says he's not doing it. I asked Battle Creek Jesus, he said he's barely doing it. You don't actually get through it, I think that's how you do it.
She's not responding anymore, to my messages. I hope and pray they're all still alive. Every one of 'em. I could never forgive the Lord if he lets them die. I just might turn my back on God if he let's that mongrel state kill them. I don't care if that bad, if that's not what he wants. This is what I want. I want good people to live.
So much, so fast. You know, I see a lot more roadkill these days. It's never fun. I remember when I was a bean counter, I was on the Lodge, and I saw a dead dog on the side of the road. And just a few months ago we see a dog running around the freeway, live on the very same John C. Lodge hell circuit. What the hell are these people doing with their dogs? I remember when I was little there were strays on every corner in Detroit. You couldn't go two miles without driving past a whole pack or two.
My family keeps talking about dogs. About getting dogs. About raising or adopting dogs. It's been setting in, that ache. We miss Baxter. I miss him so much. I miss him, but I can never do it again. I can't adopt any new ones. I like Borzois the most. I like their uncanny visage, and I like their hair. Maybe that's disgusting. I wouldn't know.
Right now, I'm using a grinding machine to sharpen some skates. This job rocks.
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