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The Chili's was better than I remembered. Actually, I said that last time. Perhaps a revision of my opinion is in order. It was the highlight of the night. My nephew "graduated" preschool tonight, complete with gowns and diplomas, the whole bit. I was caught between wanting to support him and thinking, "This is really stupid, and is the reason why we're so soft today."
I thought some Gwen Stefani was in order before bed. Big mistake. "Early Winter." The words stick like sharp knives. I didn't think I'd make it to the end. But I enjoyed the pain so much, I listened to it again. Before I heard that, it was "Don't Speak". It seemed apropos at first, and then I realized it was the exact opposite. I would very much like someone to speak, to explain to me why any of this suffering is good or appropriate. I have a pretty high tolerance for things that truly suck, and I have great faith. I know I do. But I'm out. You couldn't spiritualize anything good out of this one. Put it this way: I don't want any more friends; I'll just lose them.
We're all pretty much worthless as friends. It seems to me that most of us just luck out every day we don't hit the trip-wire that says, "It's All Over." I mean, I can't picture saying that. Pretty much everyone I've ever loved in my life has made me really angry. Even screaming "get out of my face before you die" angry. But passions are passions, and time reminds us that those feelings out of control are as far from reality as truth is from falsehood. The closest thing I have to an enemy in this world is closer to me than the friend I lost. Just a phone call away. It might not be a call I'd make, but it wouldn't be a call I'd refuse. And knowing that--he almost killed me and my family--makes me really angry.
I'm not a killer; not in the truest sense. What's the gravity here? If I'm as bad or worse than that man, fine. But I think we all know better.

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