Leroy’s Journal (1st entry)
I’m finally home after living on the streets for months or that's what they tell me I was doing. It's crazy, but I can't remember a thing! I must have lost my mind for a little while. Maybe I smoked the wrong joint one day and just blacked out. I don’t know how I got to live on the streets, but that's where 40 found me. I never thought I'd say this ever, but I will never smoke another joint a day in my life. I'm so happy that my cousin 40 found me, because if not I don't know where I would have ended up.
My mind is still a little cloudy. Things don't seem the same! Like for instance, 40 just doesn't look like 40 to me. He looks a little different. He’s been trying to loose weight for years, and as soon as I’m missing he looses so much weight I can't recognize him. Damn, he must have been really worrying about me. He was worring so much, I guess he didn't have time to eat half the world like he does. I guess you never know how much you’re really loved till you’re gone. I love that guy!
Before I left, getting a home cook meal from my mom was like pulling teeth. When I got home, moms hugged me so tight and cooked my favorite meal, steak tacos and even put real steak inside instead of the Kibbles and Bits. she always used to use. After not washing up in two months, I took a long hot bath. When my mom saw the thick dirty ring I left in the tub, she didn’t even call me her usual bad names like dirty bum, or stink ass, she just called me a filthy ball of a scum rat. That told me how much she cared.
I just felt one again, these damn headaches!! I mean, at first I thought I had taken acid or something like that. I kept seeing flashes of a life that is unfamiliar to me. It was weird. But back in my own bed, back home, now I can sleep long and hard, like a crack addict.
One last thing Journal, I also have a weird sensation filling my me, I feel like I need to be a part of something, some movement. But I just can't put my finger on what exactly I'm suppose to be a part of.
Well I guess that’s all I have to say for the first entry.
P.S. There’s one thing that keeps puzzilin’ me since I been back. It's 40, who never smoked weed in his entire life, and now he's always trying to get me to smoke a joint with him. But even weirder, as much of a pot head as I was, I don't even have the slightest interest in puffing on a fatty. What's up with that? I guess I’m going to have a long talk with 40 to find out how come he’s changed so much.
Till next time!
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