things were relativley normal.

we moved into this nice house in a nice neighborhood. and i had my own room. I started to write poetry and watch wrestling. writing and reading so much made my spelling skills alot better.

i would walk around at night, and sometimes moon people. I had alot of hatred and resentment for my mother. and hardly spoke.

my grandmother died, and that didn't help things. she had been really sick and we'd always call eachother and about a month before she died i told her i loved her.

the services were akward and i was fighting back tears. all of the strangers there wasn't helping. when she was being burried i went wandering around the funeral home and fucked with the speakers the preachers use. i think i said "suck it".

we moved back with my dads family.
I got into music and drawing, and wasn't very good. I was very angry and wrote bad poetry too.

on the eve of the day my neighbor was moving to texas, i fell in love. the last i heard was that he tried to kill himself.