This started as my blog of "Why I'd like Peoria to be more like Detroit?" but from looking over the draft, I found a point where I go off course to be quite fitting for when it comes to my recent unfair, state of unemployment, and further realization of how hopeless I really am.
I wish I was suicidal so that, so my bitching may end.
The excuse for breathing right now: I made it to difficult to off myself. The regret of tattooing my wrist, so I can't slit em'. Pills never seem to work for my friends, and I don't dare dial any dealer numbers.
Stacia was also a really smart person who kept her feet on the ground, and knew how to get the most out of life. Usually, that came out through some of the best rock of our generation, her wicked sense of humor, and her beaming smile that never seemed to fade.
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