My brother Alec had to bring it to me, since it was sent to mom's house. I ripped it open, and it basically said that if I received that letter, ...Peter was certainly, most probably, dead. He then took the rest of the letter to relay to me that he was sorry things turned out the way they did for me, and that he wished me the best. He told me something else, but I am reluctant to share it on this blog, for various reasons. At the end, he told me there was one final thing: something to help me fight against the Fears. He gave me coordinates, and I was able to track down where he wanted me to go. I went to it, and I managed to find it.
It isn't very helpful at the moment, to be honest. But I'm hoping that maybe it will come in handy.
And for now, I am going to take a break from blogging. Norman has asked me and the others to meet with him more often; he is going to teach us how to fend for ourselves against the Dying Man. Hopefully, it'll make a difference. Hopefully, we can make a difference.
Trailer Trash (cover)
- Jesse Lacey & Kevin Devine
Eating snow flakes with plastic forks,
And a paper plate of course,
You think of everything.
Short love with a long divorce,
And a couple of kids of course,
They don't mean anything
Live in trailers with no class,
Goddamn, I hope I can pass,
High school means nothing
Taking heartache with hard work.
Goddamn, I am such a jerk.
I can't do anything.
And I shout that you're all fakes,
And you should have seen the look on your face,
And I guess that's what it takes,
When comparing your bellyaches.
And it's been a long time,
Which agrees with this watch of mine.
And I guess that I miss you,
And I'm sorry if I dissed you.
I'm sorry if I screwed you up.
I'm sorry if I made you mad.
And you spend your whole life,
looking for the adult that you are,
then you spend the rest your life looking for,
looking for the child that you were.