PHQ-Nickname:
Wolfsbane
Halfquake:
The Chamber
Level:
1
Total kills:
64
Birthday:
00th 0000
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| 3-13-04 The Coolest PUNK I know... |
| Mood: | depressive |
| Type: | Diary entry |
| Added: | March 13th 2004, 22:17:05 |
| Visits: | 1318 |
| Series: | [ Amy's Journals... ] |
| Rating: | Not rated yet. |
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Description:
He died last night of alcohol poisoning...a friend I will miss...3-12-04...the last night of his life...I'll miss him, that crazy bastard. |
All I have is memories of the coolest and truest punk I've ever known. You see all those movies with "Punk Rock" kids in them. I knew one. The coolest one ever. He was a TRUE punk. He was a punk in every sense of the word. He once told me that to be a punk "you gotta live your life and be yourself and not care what anyone else says about you...THAT is what being a TRUE PUNK really is..." He lived by that too. He was his own person.
The first time I ever saw him, he was walking down the road, wearing orange. He had an orange mohawk, orange shirt, orange pants, and matching orange converse shoes. Heh. That was the way he was. Other than that, he NEVER matched. He was probably the weirdest person I've ever known. Never thought I'd miss him this much either.
I hardly knew him until he just decided to come over my house one day with an ex of mine. Damn...I can still remember what he wore. Ha ha ha. He wore a leopard print patched up jacket. He had sewn the leopard print on from some other shirt. He wore pants that were tight and WAY too small for him, with mis-matched converse shoes. God...he wore one red and one blue one. Not to mention his socks were wildly mis-matched also. One sock was almost to his knee, and the other was short. His mohawk was about sky high. He walked up smoking a cigarette and was just weird. We sat around talking, me, my ex, and this punk. We were wandering around my old yard. He was showing us his mosh-pit moves. "The punch-o-matic", "The kick-o-matic", "The punch and kick-o-matic", and "The punch and kick-o-matic 2000". The way he was trying to seem cool, but only to himself. He wasn't trying to impress ANYONE but HIMSELF. But the fun part is, we were all playing hacky sack, and he was damn good at it too.
We hung out a bit that summer, and got along well. We hung out MORE right before school and during the first two months of school my sophomore year. Damn, this brings a smile to my face, to think of him running around like an idiot all the time. We would sit on the deck talking, then suddenly, he would just break out into song out of nowhere. I don't know the names of all the songs. "The KKK took my baby away" and there was this other one I can only remember the words and the tune..."I've got something to say...i killed your baby today and it doesn't matter much to me as long as it's dead...I've got something to say...I raped your mother today and it doesn't matter much to me as long as she's spread..." DAMN IT. I can still remember how deep his voice was, and he had a good voice. We would run around the woods. My ex would make a game of it. They said I was a mage, becuase I used to run around wearing a cape. And I remember, my friend was the bard guy, he would just sing and dance around the woods with us for hours as we just ran through the paths. Then of course, we would walk around the streets of my old neighborhood and he would be singing and jumping and dancing and smoking. He wore a jacket that said "PUNK SNOT DEAD". He would also wear pants that had bleach stains all over them, and would sometimes wear combat boots.
For a while, he lived on his own. He lived in an old burnt down house. He lived right across the street from Cumberland Farms, a nice little store. HA HA HA. We would go to the store, and him and my ex tried to buy a carton of cigarettes, but...it didn't work. SO...they bought a few packs and a gallon of blue fruit punch. Those two...haha. We made a cage out of crates, and my friend then sat in it and no one could see him. Ha ha. He sat there shaking the cage and no one knew there was someone in there. People would ask and we'd say we didn't notice the crates moving. Then we went to that house he lived in. He had no money, no food, nothing, not even clean clothes. I gave him some money, all that I had on me, maybe about $5. He used it for a coffee inthe morning. At school I bought him food from a snack machine, and we would talk for a long time. He kicked over a fence one night using one of his moshing moves.
That kid would hitch-hike to wherever he wanted to be. I would have trusted him with anyone. He would never talk shit about me. He was someone I could trust, to take care of anyone that was on the run or was trying to get somewhere. I don't know what it was, but I could trust that kid.
He always had a cigarette or two on him. He used to bite out the filters and then smoke them. I can remember when he was trying to hide from an assistant principle, Mr. Kennedy. I lent him my jacket. But...I just remembered...it still has his scent on it, cuz I never used it since. I dunno why, I just didn't use it ever after that. We would talk everyday, for about 45 minutes. We had a study hall together. I gave him money, lighters, anything I could to help him out. Then he got suspended and I didn't see him again for a long time. I hadn't seen him for over 10 months. Then I saw him one morning...bright and early. I left him with someone, I trusted him enough to leave someone with him.
This kid, he was cool. He was beyond cool. I should have known he would die. He was just...cool. He watched his father kill himself and his mom was a psychopath. He acted like it didn't matter, but I knew that somewhere DEEP inside it got to him. I wish I could just take my memories and play them over and over and over again, and save them somewhere to play them whenever I want to. But...hey...I guess somewhere inside, I knew it would come.
I know how alcohol poisoning works. It slows down your body. You get sleepy. You fall asleep. Then you slip into a coma. Then you die. That's how he died. BUT...he was doing something he LOVED to do. He was with all his friends, drinking, smoking cigarettes, and just chilling. BUT...he was probably having fun. He was probably happy. I sure as hell hope he was happy. I just want to run away right now, and not think about him, not think about anything, not even think, and just waste away into nothing. I just want to go out, and be happy. I'll miss him. I will miss him terribly. He was a cool guy, a pure punk rocker. I hope to see him around. |
Legion
March 15th 2004, 01:42:35
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*sigh*...Once again my condolences...you left me with and he took care of me...protected me fromm JV...he was a cool kid...had me promise I'd look after you...I plan to pay my respects because his advice helped me recently when I needed it the most.
But...yeah, I agree he was a really great guy and I was lucky enough to have met him.
Legion |
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Legion
