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Nevermind that last entry. For some reason, last week decided to explode with the scareist things ever. And of course it had to happen on finals week. Brandon disappeared. Then the next day after I fucking recovered from that, my two closest closest friends almost got the life beat out of them by 2 cops. The cops pulled them over as they were walking down the road at 1 am. I'll avoid the unpleasant details, but B. had his head kicked in 3 times, giving him a concussion and fracturing his jaw in two different places. He was tazered, stun gunned (the barb had to be surgically removed because the cop did it at point blank range..) pepper sprayed and punched. K. got a busted lip, numerous cuts and scrapes from being punched to the ground, burned eyes from pepper spray, etc. B. was detained for 4 hours on Vashon in a holding cell... without any medical attention. Same for K. I'm not saying names because I'm not completely sure it's cool. K and B are pressing charges. The island is completely livid. This case is going to be huge... especially because there were witnesses.
There was no real reason for this. The guys were finally given the explanation that they were walking on the wrong side of the road. (backs facing traffic). Which is total bullshit. No one deserves that kind of beating because they were walking, quite legally, on a side of a empty road at 1 am. This week has been so awful. I'm worried, scared, totally hurt and sleep-deprived. I really need a break, a kind word, some black-tar heroin. I had a dream last night where I was wandering through this weird, creepy kind of knick-knack store, only it was a classroom, being taught by this very scary old man. I was strolling through the aisles, getting more and more creeped out. At one point I picked up a broche, and as I looked into it - some violent act upon someone appeared in the gem, and then was projected onto the wall. I couldn't stop it. When I threw down the broche because this murder was so awful, it just became bigger on the wall, and louder. That happened twice, with two different scenes. I ran away crying, to the downstairs room, where I ran into a very old, awful looking man. His eyes were sunken in, his hair was greasy and long, wearing rags.. he looked as though a prisoner in a torture chamber would look. He looked up at me and asked in a hoarse and raspy voice for a cigarette. As I turned around to look for one, my "teacher" appeared behind me, holding a lit cigarette, and gave it to the man. The man took it, very weakly and now looking very scared - took a puff and slowly reclined... then he closed his eyes and I realized he was dead. I watched and was horrified - but then I noticed that the lit cig. that he took a puff out of was now brand new, not lit. I took it out of his hands, and asked my teacher what happened... He gave no reply but that I needed to learn the lesson of the day. He pulled out my sewing machine, and started stitching this kind of obituary sounding paragraph. I woke up today thinking I heard a man whispering in my ear. Right now I'm even a little weirded out .. I hate the kind of dreams where when you wake up, you're reality is skewed enough to make you uneasy...
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