Im hopin i didnt scare anyone with my tale of revenge and pain yesterday. Sometimes that comes out...i never know when its going to happen. Sometimes my fingers type without me thinking about it. Sometimes my soul comes pouring out into these words, without me realizing it. The actual reality of it is, i wanted to say much more than i did, but less is more in my book, and typing too much would have cluttered the thoughts in my mind. Those who know, know, and those who dont, dont need to.

This day in xt04 history three years ago...

There was a police standoff directly in front of my house. Me being the amateur photojournalist i was (read:idiot), i attempted to get pictures of said event. Unfortunately i couldnt get close enough to the action to get anything worthy of being published in even the lowliest of magazines. Either way, three years later, im wishing there was another police standoff in front of my home... then maybe a stray bullet might come through the window and graze me.

I dont want a life threatening wound or anything. Just somethin painful enough to give me one of those life changing epiphanies. You know, the kind where you look at the bullet wound for the rest of your life as a source of inspiration. The type where, you now know what direction to take in life, and everything becomes clearer, cause this confusion and fog thing going on in my head isnt working too well. Id use the internal wounds ive suffered, but those dont seem to work very well. They heal too easily.

I was lookin through my archive of pictures, as i do periodically, and i saw a folder with pictures of an old friend of mine. On her right arm she had a tattoo of a heart, stitches on one side, and giant band-aids on the other. Back then i didnt really understand why she was so jaded...so bitter sometimes. She always talked about the people that hurt her, and used her , and yo-yo'd around with her emotions, and though she might have been a bit dramatic back then, I understand it now. Though i havent felt her pain, I feel her pain.

Only so much...

I have an interesting medical condition, and once my doctors told me that any time there is a large portion of scar tissue in one area, there's an elevated risk of cancer forming in that area. I was so scared at the mention of the 'C' word. I couldnt imagine me being a victim.

Too young...
Too much left to do...
Too much to live for...

I was so worried.

Funny thing is, I never thought to ask them if my heart worked the same way...