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79.365; there is no power as potent as possibility.
Even if your hands are shaking, and your faith is broken. Even as the eys are closing, do it with a heart wide open. Day 79 - August 16th, 2009. So let's talk about feelings. And controversial stuff. And good people. And bad people. (This might be long.) Yesterday I found something out. The perv who assaulted me more than 2 years ago is dead. A fast moving cancer. I would like to say that karma is a bitch. I am so relieved. I feel so much less guilty. I never followed through with the police report. Think less of me if you want. I sure do. I failed. But looking back, it wasn't just me. Everybody failed. I failed. My parents failed. The system failed me with the way it was handled. The thing that has haunted me since was the fact that I failed every other girl. Every other potential or future victim. That was my fault. Sixteen year old girls are not equipped -- mentally, emotionally -- to handle half the shit they pretend they are. You've no idea how many times in my head I've gone through scenarios. So many scenarios. So many things I would have done so differently. But in some ways, I wonder if this was one of the most valuable experiences of my life. Never again will I allow myself to be taken advantage of or to be manipulated by another person. If I can say that I have learned that lesson -- truly and actually learned that -- at age 18, then maybe it was a good thing. I am happy he's dead. I wonder if that means I'm a really terrible person. I have tried, and cannot bring myself to feel any sort of remorse whatsoever. Despite the fact that he had a family, children, friends, a job. Maybe it's just the idealism of youth that would have expected any other sort of response. Maybe I am a really horrid person. Maybe I am just a person. I thought about this whole situation and cried for the first time in more than 2 years about it today.A Job Well Done
I needed furniture, and I mentioned this to Andy & Nur when they stopped by my place. Nur goes down to the basement the next day to the garbage heap and finds a couch in usable condition minus the cushions. Today, I head over there, OK the booty, and then hang out with Nur until Andy gets out of his late meeting at the MC.
All three of us then proceed downstairs, Andy tired and angry, Nur jovial as usual, and myself a combination of excitement, worry and Jacob nirvana, to survey the situation. We can't take it out the garage, because it's locked, and Nur doesn't have a car, so he doesn't have keys to the garage. We can't take it out of the front because it's too short for the elevator, and the front door doesn't open enough to fit it through anyway. In fact, the only door to the basement is one that is only about half of a normal sized door. We work at it for 15 or 20 minutes (this is an understatement, as getting it through the basement door was pretty much impossible; how we did it, I still don't fully understand) and finally force it out no problem.
4Ride won't give us a ride, and Nur and Andy don't feel like walking (which is smart). So we flag down a random truck, and he's kind enough to give us and the couch a ride over to the Aston, where we play the worlds biggest game of tetris again and manage to dump the thing in my room, only slightly worse for the wear.
In any case, this is what a job well done looks like.
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