Sometimes, I like to sit and think about all the things that could go wrong and have gone wrong in my life. One good example is Ronnie. He's everything that could have possibly ended and simultaneously saved my life. That's the reason he's something that went wrong. You either help me or you hurt me, there shouldn't be an in-between like what happened with Ronnie. Another thing that went wrong was that little fucker Milo. Honestly, the poor dude tried his best but it just didn't work out. His entire fucking presence in my life is what didn't work out. I guess one good thing in my life was Osha. She was a good kid, never caused me any trouble. Always managed to cause it for herself though, such a shame too. She didn't deserve all the trouble she managed to find and make. Another good thing was Bronks, he may have been terrified of me but he was a genuinely nice guy. One that I wasn't so sure about was Miji. To this day, I still don't know if she was a good thing or something that went wrong. Better to not find out. Miji always perplexed me, always had me on my toes. With her around there was never a dull moment, which I'm sort of glad for. Parker- fantastic, dickweed, stick-up-the-ass Parker- actually managed to constructively impact my life. I'm grateful to him for that, at least. He managed to keep me from accidentally dying many times. So many people and things in my life have gone about as wrong as they could fucking go, and they still do. My favorite thing about my pessimism is that I'm either always right or I get a very nice surprise every once in a while. I don't get many surprises. Because I'm almost always right. Having pessimistic friends has its benefits as well as being a pessimist myself. Osha, Bronks, Parker, and Ronnie, god damn his ass, we're all pessimists. And we managed to make it work. Milo, Miji, Colette, Tony, hell, maybe even Paz- they're all fucking optimists. I don't even know how I managed to stand near any of them at any given point in time. Well, except Paz. I was never sure about her views on life and I'm still not. I guess that's what made her bearable to be around. She didn't talk to anyone much but when she did talk it was always something helpful, always something insightful. She could have done great things in her life if she wasn't a sex addict. It was tearing her apart, bit by bit, and we all knew someday she'd end up a shell in a wooden box six feet below the surface of the earth. If she was lucky she'd be cremated. Or, if she got extremely lucky, she'd be with her ancestors in the center of a tree. I really ought to get to what you're all here for, but now I'm so hung up on the assholes who dared call me their friend I don't know if I can. I'll try. Oh and, sorry this took so long to get through. I have a thing for nostalgia. I'll get down to business now, I promise.
