Love and hate will always exist. One cannot love without the opposite. If you outstandingly disagree to the point of chastisement, then politely excuse yourself by clicking the red x on the top right corner.
I love.
I love my future wife despite our disputes. She is my glue in the midst of the most trying years of my life. As i made the true jump from boy to man, she stood beside me even when i was undeserving. I love my family. They're the backbone. The fortification. Even though we are dropping off from earth like flies.
On February 8th at 1235 in the morning I learned the truest and strongest form of love. Olivia was and is the most beautiful being I have laid eyes on. Any given day. Even the worst. Her smiles and sounds can put me at peace. When she hurts, I feel an emotional line to her that is indescribable. I would give anything to remove the pain or discomfort. Even if it meant to hurt and feel 1000000 tenfold what she was. I love her with a great passion burning deep in my soul.
I love my friends. As much as any friend can. I can never forget my brothers. My comrades. My partners in crime throughout my highschool and college years.
With love, walks hatred. As white does with black.
I hate spiders. I hate dumb drivers. I hate sharks.
I hate that I am afraid.
Though fear is my great ally.
I hate my admission of fears.
This morning I sit in the sunshine state hundreds of miles from my heart, and I am filled with hate. A new real hatred. Through my life I have never seen this form of evil. This morning I think of my uncle Rick's death. And his poor pathetic weeping widow. I'm glad I wasn't present to see the dollar signs I. Her eyes as soon as my uncle left this world. She scrambled as soon as he had passed to make damn sure she sold everything that was willed to my father. She knew damn well who Rick's belongings were to go to For sentimental reasons. She forced him to live in a small room across the house from her. She kept 10 cats in the house. My uncle was highly allergic to them. He gave everything he had for her. His weapons. His dog even. And in the end his dignity. He slept in a doorless room on a matress laid on the floor. Covered in cat hair. His clothes were found soaked in cat urine. She called everyone after he passed. Not to inform people about his death. But to see if they had any of his weapons. She drove to ricks former home and store house and stole from my father. Taking the sentimental things for monetary gain. Her church paid for her gas. My uncle received little more than a salute at his funeral. She would have had us arrested if we attended. She drained my uncle of everything he had. He was a generous and giving soul. I will always cherish the times we went out shooting. Even then he was so generous. Loading magazine after magazine cylinder after cylinder. I'll never forget when he loaded up a .44 bulldog and said, "you know that this is going to be your gun when you get a little older. "
That was only 3 years ago.
Today I was told that the gun he was shot with was the very same gun.
I have much more to say. But it isn't for the public. It dives into more personal and confidential matters that would violate the wishes of many. This is only the very tip of the iceberg. While Rick was surrounded by good friends, he lived with a lying thieving two faced demon.
Wether Rick's death was indeed a suicide, an accident, or a murder will forever remain a mystery. As much as I would like to act on my hatred, my vengeful days are at an end. God must sort this out. I can not. The legal system will not.
I realize that no amount of vengeance can restore what has been lost.
Nothing can bring my uncle back.
This burning hatred for her actions will remain.
Rest in peace, uncle Rick.
Thank you for your time.
"Fear. Fear attracts the fearful… the strong… the weak… the innocent… the corrupt. Fear. Fear is my ally."
"one day you will burn for your decisions and what you did with your life. So live it up now. For only the dead have seen the end of this world."
