High Ramblings

This is a diary entry. I got high wrote this the day after the most catastrophic event in my life to date.

Bob Marley was brilliant. Its as if every lyric he ever wrote was written for a woman with tears in her eyes. I suppose that's who they were meant for. And for the man who feels scared, and the child that doesn't understand. Whatever the reason, his music makes me happy. It soaks up all the world's evil like a sponge in a basin. Its sunshine on a tropical island, the water blue and the smell of mangoes drifting on the air. His lyrics are simple. They declare peace with every syllable.

They were such a bunch of pot heads.

Every now and then he throws in something about himself, his people and where they came from. I'm not sure why a Jamaican was singing about buffalo soldiers from Africa though.

Am I allowed to be happy again? Is it ok for me to forget? I don't want this to interrupt my life. I don't want to give him that power. I can't afford tbe a comatose wreck, as much as I want to.

I wonder if I'll ever properly feel again, somehow I doubt it. That doesn't bother me as much as it should.

I feel like my heart has buried itself under 100kg's of cement.

I just want to sleep and never wake up again.maybe then I'll find the peace I so desperately seek.

If God is real the way my mother said, he surely hates me. Nothing less than pure loathing could inspire such malice.

Won't you help to sing these songs of freedom. Cause all I've ever had, redemption songs. Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery.