I'm really trying to be a better person, but it's hard for me, I desperately want to be a nice person- not too nice where I'm forced to take shit from everyone- just positive, not negative like I am now. I believe in Karma, but I don't set a good example. You see- I'm the funny kid, I guess. I'm the kid people look to when someone wants to talk back to a teacher, and it's fun... But it turns you into a mortal asshole like me. I like being the funny kid, but I don't like being the mean kid, and they can't really be two different things- I'm an observational person, I observe and listen and then make my jokes or whatever from what I've heard, and that's always hurting someone. I desperately want to be a nice person who people look to for a good example, but it doesn't seem possible, now I'm all for being a good person and not doing bad things- but I'd have to give up my humor, and it might be weird to call that a gift- but Jesus Christ, god didn't bestow many other amiable traits on me, I guess I'm smart, but it's not good enough when I can't be a good person, I don't know. It's not as much as being afraid to change and being hard for me to change as much as it is me having to give up something personal that I was given. That's why I'll say this- if we're ever in public and I start being an asshole, just fucking hit me in the back of the head- not overly hard, just enough to get the point across.
Anyways
How about a memory? Alright, it's depressing, be ready.
The Girl Who Died
Well, this is a story of mine that’s a little tough. I was in fourth or fifth grade (can’t really remember quite well), and this is the story of this girl who died that year…
Her first name was Jessica, I can’t remember her last name, but it’s not important.. I was at home, this was all when I lived in Georgia, and it was the Assistant Principal of my school, and asked to speak to a parent, and no one was around so I took the message, but she said she’d just call back later. Okay- cool. So, my Mom gets home and call the Assistant Principal, afterwards… She tells me that someone in my school had died, someone in my grade, she said the girl was in a vehicle and it rolled down this hill and hit a wall and the impact killed her… That’s not really what happened; She was laying on a hammock and her brother was there, but he was inside and she fell asleep and tangled her throat and face in the hammock on accident and suffocated to death, that’s some shit- death by hammock, it was sad, very, very sad.
The next day at school, of course we didn’t have any class, we were all in a classroom and talked about how we felt and it was all very sad. After that day, no one really said much about her. It’s sad that I can’t do justice to this poor girls memory, but this is really all I remember. I knew her, but only as well as a fourth or fifth grader knows any fourth or fifth grade member. It doesn’t haunt me, but it has a place in my heart that this poor girl died. She died from a hammock, a simple foundation of string or possibly hemp.
Think of the things she never experienced in her life; Marriage, prom, children, family, a husband (or wife respectably).
No comments:
Post a Comment