Randy's Journal (October 2005)

Note to readers of these entries: There are many grammatical, punctuation and typing errors. It would be incredibly time consuming to go through each entry and correct the mistakes, so I ask that the reader please forgive me of these errors. Each entry goes through several hands in the process of getting my words from death row to your computer screen in a timely fashion. Thank you for your patience. I hope you will enjoy my writings.



October 1, 2005

Well, a week has passed since the hurricane let up. It seems things are back to normal - sort of. This past week has been an emotional roller coaster with all that is going on with my wife and everything else. I'm just glad that September is over and done. Months don't get any worse than that.

My friend David from Michigan was supposed to come down and see me on Thursday and Friday. Of course I figured he would cancel because of the hurricane and he did. But as unpredictable as the administration here is, they did end running visits after all. Just my luck. I had thought, well I guess I'll just have to wait until we can reschedule and all of that. But then listening to the shout out show I learned from my wife that she would be coming this week instead. I was happy, yet kind of upset because I did need to see my wife as soon as possible, so we could talk about everything and I could figure out what to do next.

Then, things get crazier with another message from her that threw me for a loop. It just really confused me and while I want to get my hopes up I can't for right now. I kind of have my heart under lock and key and I don't want to have it trampled all over again. Once bitten, twice shy… But still, I pray…

It was a beautiful Saturday morning here in Livingston, Texas. I woke up well rested from last night and was glad October was here. I watched the sun rise against a crystal clear sky. The Texas and American flag waving in front of the prison entrance. Sun light reflecting off the dome of a water tower way off in the distance. It was peaceful. I felt peaceful for a change.

Maybe this month will be full of changes for the better. I don't think I can handle another month like last month. Autumn is here finally, the tempe­rature has cooled of considerably for Texas and I just want to take a big deep breath and pray to God that everything will be okay.

It makes me think of a time in 1995 at school in Kentucky. Things were pretty crazy then. I had been expelled because they thought I was suicidal, but they let me back in that next fall. I had just moved out of the Apartment my parents bought me in Lexington and I felt that this was a chance for new start to try to regain some ground with my parents and finish high school and just move on. I was still very conflicted with all that had happened the past summer. And I did feel so abandoned by my father and confused as to why such a trivial thing was coming in between us. A stupid argument that steam rolled into me being stupid and impulsive. But also, Theresa's parents had just about hated me too, because we were getting so caught up in each other and because I got caught stealing and then got caught sneaking into their home, even though it was alright by Theresa… They just really disliked me a lot. The thing was we got along just fine until that summer. Her mom would give me hugs and brag about me and just think I was the best… But not anymore.

So all of that was building up inside of me, and our version of the home coming queen, called "the Year book Pageant", was approaching, and Theresa was voted in as a contestant, but I knew other than being an escort, I wouldn't be able to share in it with her as much as I would like, because her whole family was coming down to see the pageant, and, well, they didn't like me so… I would have to take a back seat and watch from a distance.

As the time came closer for the pageant, the more stressed I became, and one night I was walking around the campus. The cool autumn air filling my lungs and breeze blowing my wild hair around. I stopped at these big rocks that sat on top of this hill that over looked our track and field and sat down. ­In the distance you could see our school farm, and rolling hills. The sun was setting, and the light was reflecting off of the large feed silos. It was so beautiful. I just started to cry, letting all of the hurt and pain and anger and everything pour out of me in tears. Then I started praying to God to just let me please get things back to normal. Let me have my dad back and my life and let me share this one day with Theresa. A sudden peace came over me and something told me that, even though I may not think it, He (God) was always there. And I knew things would get better.

What was so strange about that? Well, maybe not strange, but proof that God does listen is the day of the pageant I was helping set up. I poured all of my energy into it and was the very last one left a few hours before the show started. I was vacuuming the Chapel floors and the female contestants were starting to show up for rehearsal. I saw Theresa and then her family come in behind her. I kind of panicked and shut the vacuum off and started wrapping the cord up. Theresa walked up to me and we hugged and then I said "I gotta go back to the dorms and get dressed and ready." I was trying to get somewhere fast! And as I was taking off making a bee line for the doors, her mother called me and told me to stop. She came walking up to me and hugged me and we started crying and I said, "I'm sorry for everything" and she said she forgave me and that if she could forgive her son (Jim had been kicked out of school for drugs) she could forgive me. And we just started crying and then Theresa came over and she was crying and her grand parents were looking at us like we were all crazy. Now, that I think about it, it seems like one of those typical family scenes from a movie. My point is that even when we think all is lost and God isn't listening to us, he is. He hears our cries of distress and if we ask he will comfort us.

And for this reason I still have hope, some reason to believe he'll hear my cries of my heart again and hopefully grant my prayers. All I want more than anything else right now is my wife.



October 13, 2005

Today has been a very interesting day. I'm tired and exhausted, because it's Yom Kippur and have not had anything to eat since yesterday. It's a holiday, that Jewish (most anyways) people fast and pray. Technically I shouldn't even be writing this as it constitutes some for of work, but I've got so much junk on my head, that I had to start writing.

My attorney came by today and dropped off a bunch of documents, that I had never seen, and one included a transcript of a recorded conversation with an ex-girl friend. Now, I've read some pretty remarkable things in going through all of these legal things and out of everything I've read about myself this is the most unbelievable item. Out of everyone, who's warped and twisted my past, it was her. I read the transcript thinking, "Huh?" I don't know what it is about people, when they look back on their lives they tend to be melodramatic add things onto their lives. I mean getting a few things confused is under­standable, and the mind tends to fill in the blanks or can be influenced by suggestion, but Theresa's account of my life was like some crazy Mad Lib for the mind. You know those books, where they tell you to add an adverb here or an adjective there. Now we need a really good noun… And we have Randy's past! Because of this I've decided to reflect on that particular portion of my life and our relationship and clear up a few things. So I will be writing her an open letter. Now, the chances of her, actually even knowing this site exists, is like one in six billion, but I have to set the record straight, so that I can have some sort of closure on all of this. Bear with me for a little bit…

Dear Theresa!

Hello, I'm writing this letter so that I can clear up a bunch of stuff. No, not because I'm some nut, who can't let go of the past. I have let go of that past, but of course I haven't quite forgotten either. One thing we never really had I closure on things and maybe by me doing this I can finally put to rest that little itch, that has always bothered me. I mean, it had subsided for a bit and then I read this crazy transcript of you and an investigator talking about what you remembered about me, and it just dumbfounded the heck out of me.
I mean, after getting past the "Wow"factor I thought, "Oh man, she was willing to help the state kill me." Had I really scarred you so bad, that this was some sort of back lash? Like, "This is pay backs. I'll show him!"?

Now, I'm not so ego centric to believe, that my lies and stupidity had that much of an effect on you, but reading this did make me feel horrible inside about all of my stupidity and lies and betrayal. I wish saying "sorry" was enough.
I truly do.

I could never fully understand, why I lied so much, because I had so much going on in my head, on the inside that I really I was always so confused. You would ask me, why all of the time, and I would say, I don't know - and as ironic as this must sound, that was the truth. I didn't know.

Someone once told me that moving on was better than self reflection, but without self reflection we would never understand, who we are or what we could be­come. We can't learn to love ourselves without self reflection. We wouldn't identify our personal problems without self reflection. We just can't be without self reflection.

I've had nothing but time to reflect on my past.

Did I always play the pity card? Most of the time, yes, I did. Did I want attention? To be babied? All true. Did I lie and manipulate to achieve those things? Yes. It was wrong and it ended up hurting people and led to betrayal but no one ever stopped to ask me why. Even if I had been asked I wouldn't have known until a few years ago, but I think I could've pin pointed or identified the problem and that was fear. Fear of abandonment. My fear of absolute loneliness. Fear.

It's funny, because the investigator was telling you, that in my trial I would use some sort of bull about how I was abused as a child and abandoned, things like that. I thought, "I guess, she forgot about the scar on my wrist. I guess, she forgot how I was adopted. How I was bounced around from foster home to foster home; how I told you about how my final foster home, before Wesley and I were adopted, had wanted Wesley for a son but not me. Yeah, I know - boo hoo. I'm just trying to show you a pattern of things. Or how about sending your fourteen year old kid, who has up to this point never been a problem except for grades off to Kentucky and having that kid see it as a variation of 'let's push him off on someone else'. Even worse when I wrote a stupid love poem on a bench to you and having it misinterpreted as a suicide note and having the school think you're suicidal… Instead of offering you help - a supposedly Christian school for troubled teens - telling you, they can't deal with a suicidal kid. Then my very own parents say, "Well, you can go any where in the U.S.A. except home or where your girlfriend lives." Gee, mom and dad, how considerate of you.

I lied because I was always afraid. I told my wife very early on in our relationship, that we had to be honest with each other and that I wouldn't lie. That, when I got scared, I would let her know and not do something drastic as my impulse is always to do. She's healed and understood me more than any one.

The stupid cancer lie came from when I knew Amy was pulling away from me and starting to see that James guy more and because I had given her my virginity. I had some sort of emotional pulling to her and I didn't want to lose her. So, I thought, "How do I get Amy to stay with me?" And then that health fair thing came, and, well, it came out. When we started going out I was truly going to come clean about it, but then I thought, "Yeah, but if I tell her, she's going to get pissed and break up with me." And I wanted us to go somewhere, because I had liked you for so long. Remember you said, you weren't sure if we should go out, because we had such an awesome friendship, that you didn't want to ruin that if we broke up? It was all another fear.

I remember telling Jason Kuhns I had lied to you, because he confronted me about it before you. I said, "Man, what the hell did I do?" I felt horrible about it. That's why I broke down and cried. It wasn't an act. I even apologized for your mom. You said I didn't even have to, but I felt the need to. I thought, this was going to be it. I'll stop here. I won't lie anymore. But I did. I couldn't stop. It was like a run away train.

The songs I said I wrote, but you discovered were from a CD? You were such an awesome writer and you were on this "I-only-mess-with-intellectuals"-kick, that I felt inferior. Not only to you, but Jason also. You guys were wining competitions. All I could do was play the piano and compose music. I didn't think I was a writer. I felt, my lyrics and poems were stupid. I just wanted to impress you. As childish and stupid as that sounds, it's the truth.

When I was serious and thought provoking I felt no one cared. I was this so called good looking guy who was silly. I was "Randy", and I didn't like being Randy. Maybe being just Randy wasn't bad in hind sight, but I was at that awkward stage in life, where I wanted to be so much more. I wanted you to be impressed. The same goes for my drivers license. A stupid little lie. I was so afraid of being myself. Everyone like Randy but me.

As for other things like "Breaking into your house" I didn't go through your room. Your window had bars on it. You told me how to get into the house ever I needed to. Yeah, I probably needed to tell you how, but when I put that note on your bed. It was just an impulsive act and trying to be romantic. I never knew your dad would've gone in there and snooped around. I thought you would come home and find this cute romantic letter on your bed and it would make you smile. There was no malicious intent in that. I didn't touch a single thing in your house. I didn't even snoop around your room. I put the note on your pillow and stuck I few "I love you"s around the room, but that was it. Remember - when your parents found out I said I had to go back to Lexington. You talked me into staying there for a couple more days.

You know, our defence tactic was never to put the blame on you for my problems. What did that guy say? Alibi? But I couldn't help but feel a little betrayed by you and that you were being a hypocrite when you said we only used LSD once together and that you weren't really into drugs at that point. Huh?
I'm not going to turn this into an expose of all you did or we did, but we did LSD together at least four times. Cough syrup? Weed? How about the time you and Courtney snuck off to the bathroom during some concert with Ritalin? But you know, honestly had I not been trying to impress you and Jim and all those people, I probably would've never tried drugs. In fact. I remember getting into it with you once early on and you came into the grill high and I was like, "What's next?" and you smarted off with something like, "Cocaine". I got so mad I left the grill and then Jason had to get us back down there together. I could've said yes or no on drugs and I liked the yes better.

How in the world were you even able to remember Bob? I had honestly forgotten about that stupid little stick figure. I was reading this and thinking, "What in the world is she talking about?" And then I remembered Bob. But c'mon, Theresa, Bob was never violent or said violent things or threatened you. Bob was a silly little character that I was just trying to use to be cute. I do remember telling you one day, "Bob's dead" and I never drew Bob again. I can't remember the reason why I decided to never do Bob again. I remember x-ing out his face on my back pack. But the reasons are just lost on me.
But seriously, I had never threatened you or used that little character as some sort of way to say what's really on my mind. I've never threatened or verbally or physically hurt a woman. Never. The incident you used with Amy… I pushed the table, not threw it, and I was upset. She was cheating on me and breaking up with me. Wouldn't any teenager be a little mad? I didn't stalk her. I wanted to talk to her and get some things cleared up. I was just trying hopefully get another chance. I did the exact opposite with you and write you a note saying I wouldn't be carrying your bags any more or getting you tea, and you blew up on me! I tried to give you space, and you just went off on me. It's like, Jesus, I can't do anything right. You went off on me for telling people, we split…
Which leads to the biggest whopper you told in this. And I know, not a single fact is wrong about this, because it was the day OJ Simpson was found not guilty, and I can remember everything. It was wet and rainy. A little cold. You were wearing a white, My white button up shirt and blue jeans.

I was at your house, but then left, because your mom was coming home. You were a little tired and wanted to take a nap too. As I was cutting across that little strip mall I ran right into your mom. I was like, "Uh oh." So I ran to the Kinkos and used the phone inside to give you a heads up to let your mom knew I was around.

Later that day I called you. First I was stunned, OJ was found not guilty. I watched the verdict at this little antique shop around the corner from your home. I said something like, "Can you believe that?", and you were a bit snippy, like, "Well, the Jury found him not guilty, so he's not guilty." (Isn't life full of such irony?) So we agreed to go to the mall, because you wanted to show me the red dress you were wearing to the Year Book pageant. We checked it out and ate at Chick Filet and as we talked the conver­sation started getting strange and you were trying to fish the lie about the drivers license out.

We then went to some department store. You were doing your thing, and I was walking around doing my thing, and I realized we'd probably miss the bus so I found you checking out some hats. I was already frustrated, because you were acting so strange and distant, so I snapped my fingers at you - bad mistake. You stormed out of the store, and I go chasing after you. On top of that, the bus, we were supposed to catch, was already taking off, so you kept walking and I'm like, "What the hell!?" It's like a mile walk back your house, it's cold and it's raining! I run after you and remember grabbing your arm and telling you to stop. You yell something like, "You don't have a license!" At first I'm confused like, 'What is she talking about?' - and then I realize… Busted on another lie. You say, "It's over, Randy. I told you one more time. I even gave you a chance to tell me about the license."

This is where I want to clarify something you told the prosecutors. Everything you said about this falling out, was true EXCEPT where you say, I held you out into traffic and said, "Die, Bitch!" What? Come again? What LifeTime movie did you get that from, Theresa? It hurt me to the core that you would say I did something like that. When besides of my stupidity I had been nothing but gentle and loving. I would've never even threatened you, Theresa.

You went home, and I walked around crying in the rain. Jim came out a bit later and was like, "What's going on?", and then, "Dude, you've gotta stop lying to my sister…" Now, had I threatened you - you would've not hesitated to tell Jim, and Jim would've come out with a vengeance. We talked a bit, and he went back home. At that point I thought, I'm just going to call the Kernels and have them come and pick me up and take me back to my Apartment in Lexington. That's when you come walking around the corner of the Taylor's Drug Store and are like, "What are you doing?" I say, "I'm trying to get someone to take me back to Lexington." Then you tell me, I'm selfish and don't think about others, when I want to get something done or something like that. You walk off again, and I don't see you until I turn around the corner and see you sitting on this long white bench. I sit down next to you expecting you to get up or say some­thing, but you don't. I ramble on about how I'm sorry, it was an old lie, I forgot about it… You grab my hand, and we get up and start walking back to your place. Then we stop and sit on some steps at a house, I think. "This is the last time, Randy. No more!" you say. I lean in and kiss you. Then you pull out this lighter to warm my hands. Had I just threatened your life, I don't think we would've kissed the way we were.

I guess I'm confused as to why you would make up such a thing. Were lies and stupidity enough for you to want to kill me? I mean, you realized my life was at stake, right?

You have to know that I would've never hurt you, right? I wouldn't nor couldn't! Remember the time at school you and Jim were fighting, and he came up and yanked real hard on your back pack. I pushed him away and said, "You're not going to hit your sister!" He got mad, because I was taking sides, but I protected you, Theresa. Just like I would've done for Jim and my brother or anyone I cared about and loved.

I rack my brain trying to figure out, why you would say such a thing. Then I think about the time in one of our last conversations you blamed me for breaking your Mom and Step Dad up, the psychiatrist Professor guy. Was that what it was? Was it the FBI escort out of the day care center you talked about in your interview? Was it lies and betrayal? I mean, I guess I will probably never know.

The Nader's cam corder. How stupid could I be? The thing that caused the final irreversible fissure in even the hope of just being friends. I did it, because I needed money. I never sold it. I put it on loan with the intentions of getting back to Lexington, getting the money and coming back to Louisville and returning it. It was one of those impulsive things I'm famous for that had I not only taken a few minutes to think about, I would've never done. You know, I never said, "Get Theresa to talk to me and I'll return it." l called Jason and Jim up, because you were off doing something. Jim comes on the phone and says, "Did you steal that cam corder?" I paused for a minute trying to think up a lie, but couldn't get it out, so I said, "Yeah, I stole it." "Get it back, Randy!" is all he said, but his voice was so - l knew he was mad and disappointed in me, because we were so close, like brothers. Later that night I call up Mrs. Nader and tell her, yeah I stole it. We talked, and she asked, where I pawned it, can I get it back. I said I would, when I got money, but every time I had money, it just went on drugs, because I was pretty much doing LSD every other day and a lot of ecstasy. So, it was an empty promise. All I said was, "Could you please tell Theresa, I want to talk to her and I'm sorry. I never tried to hold it over her head." 

As for getting some phone call from me in jail… Honest to God, that wasn't me! I never called you. I spent all of my time talking to my girlfriend in Ft. Worth. All I can think of is my cell mate got a hold of my addresses and phone numbers. I still had some pictures of you and us, and I would tell him about you and school. So I'm thinking he stole the number and tried to impersonate me. I mean, seriously, I have a very distinct voice. There would not be a doubt, if I called, if it was me or not.

Let me see, what else? Oh yeah, that investigator guy said, he was holding a drawing of Bob, and I was still drawing him. That wasn't Bob. It was a comic strip character called "Hanky Panky". You won't understand the joke, but it was an inside joke, that I had with some guys in prison about how some were chronic masturbators. Hanky Panky would do it to just about anything with two legs or more. That's what he was looking at. At some point I stopped doing the joke and turned Hanky Panky into a musician, and any drawing of him he would've been playing guitar or keyboards… Just little doodles. It wasn't Bob. Bob was a stick figure. Hanky Panky was a person, pants shirt chain wallet, wild hair… Just so you don't think I'm still drawing stupid characters. These days, all I draw is little bears for my wife. I guess I'm still a kid at heart.

All I'm trying to say is, I'm truly sorry for screwing up a large portion of your life. I'm sorry for my lies and any harm I caused you by them. If only you knew, how sorry I am to everyone. Not sorry out of what it's all lead to with me being on death row, but because I really do have true remorse. You don't know how much I beat myself up over things in my past. But I do think I have grown tremendously as a person, and I do understand a lot more about myself now than I ever have.

Oh, that ring? It was real. I didn't lie, when I said, I pawned my keyboard for it. It was the only way I could buy the darn thing.

I hope your life is becoming all you want it to be. I really do. I'm sorry for the wasted time on me. What would've happened, if I would've chosen Angie Brown over you? Remember the book One? It's my favorite book now, because I often think about, what, if I would've taken another road… I can only hope, that the Randy in another universe got it right.

Randy



October 24, 2005

We've been on a lockdown for the past week and a half. I suppose it's why I've not written into my journal in a while. I've been pretty much mind numb and not known what to say. I don't particularly like where I've been housed the past week, but at least I will be moved soon enough.

You're probably wondering what a lock down is? Well, this is completely different from what happened with the hurricane lock down. At least in that we were able to get hot meals. On this lock down they do it yearly, sometimes two times a year or if someone gets killed or stabbed by a weapon. Basically what they do is, shut everything down for two weeks and begin to systematically search the whole compound for contraband, drugs, hate propaganda, and weapons.

On the death row building they start on F-Pod and go from cell to cell. You pack all of your personal items into bags, and then they give you a full body search. After that they lead you to the shake down area, where they make you sit or kneel on a mattress handcuffed. You are only in your underwear.

They lay all of your items onto a table. On that table is a box, that is big. After searching your property they place all of your items into the box, one by one. Once the box is filled items left over on the table have to be sent home or destroyed. They make an inventory of the items, that didn't fit into the box, bag them up, and you never see them again. You have no choice, what goes into the box or how the officer puts it into the box. You can't substitute items either. Whatever's left on the table is gone, no "if's", "ands", or "but's". Of course, sometimes this leads to conflict, because an inmate will be upset, that he wanted his mirror or his pictures or some sort of item to have been placed into the box, but the officer just ignores them and says, "Do you want to send it home or throw it away?" The inmate may curse at him or sometimes lash out, which usually ends up in being hurt pretty badly. I didn't see to much of this, though I did get into an argument with a sergeant, when he tried to say I could release any property to my wife, but instead had to mail it home. That would've cost a mint to do so, I argued, because I knew I had an option. I won.

To be fair, the officers really didn't treat us too bad. I was worried, I would lose my Radio Reception Booster, because I had no property papers on it, but explained that I had been going through the steps to get them. The guard allowed me to keep it. I was upset, that I lost my paintings, that I had a friend do for me, but that's how it goes sometimes. You just call it a loss and move on.

The other bad part of the lockdown is the food. Now, I don't particularly complain about the food, because what is garbage to us is a five star meal to someone who is starving to death, but they really do us pretty crappy during a lock down. Mostly peanut butter and jelly sandwiches each meal. Maybe a bologna sandwich sometimes and some prunes or raisins. These meals will either clog you up or have you living on the toilet. Sometimes the paradox of both - I kid you not.

You get three showers a week. And no clean laundry most of the time.

What has made these weeks exceptionally hard on me is the fact, that my wife is again shutting down on me. I haven't received a letter in a week, and she couldn't make it down to see me again. I just don't know what's going on at times, and it's driving me nuts! I can only pray she will be down soon, and we can talk about things. I really need some sort of conclusion on this mess.

It looked really promising for a bit. We started talking and expressing, what each other wanted and felt and feared, and usually in a situation like this it's me, who would be the one to shut down, but it's been the opposite.

Big Sigh. I just don't know any more.

I've been holding a book to get to someone and was happy, I didn't lose that book. Luis Ramirez asked, if I could get it to someone. He was just executed and gave it to me a few days, before he was killed. I didn't really know the man, but he seemed like a nice guy. I feel it an honor to do a last request for someone. I can only hope the person I bring the book to, is grateful for the service. Some aren't. I consider it a mitzvah - an act of good will, that God wants us to do towards each other. So regardless if the man is grateful, that I brought a book to him from his friend, I will feel good about helping out Luis.

Now for the reason why I can't stand where I'm at right now. My neighbor is a Looney tune! All he can do is talk about how he masturbates to these female guards and how much they like it and… It's just sick. It's not my first time running across these types of guys. I made up a comic strip as an inside joke a long time ago, when I was in general population. It was called, "Hanky Panky: Chronic Masturbator". It basically followed the life of this guy who did it to everything with two legs or more. Yes, I had a strange sense of humor back in those days.

Anyways, I've always viewed that mentality as a form of rape. I mean, unless it's mutual - where you would have permission from the female officer (which does happen if a female guard likes you… I don't want to sugar coat it - it does happen). It's rape. That person is thinking of God knows what or doing God knows what. It's just sick. You'd be amazed at how open these guys are about it, too. Like my neighbor. This just bothers the hell out of me. You would think death row has all sorts of these characters back here, but to be honest, it's not that bad. I'm on the administrative custody wing right now. I'm the only death row guy.



October 25, 2005

Yeah! I saw my wife today :) It was a real short visit, but it was really sweet and nice. I don't know, what it was or is, but each time I see her, she looks more gorgeous than the time before. She was wearing these really cute jeans with flowers embroidered onto them and a real pretty top. Quite sexy, if you ask me. Anyways, we got shorted out of time, because it took the guards so long to bring to the visit. We were supposed to get two hours, but only recieved one. She says, she will probably be here on the 1st for sure! I can't wait. I mean, yeah, we have a lot to talk about and work out, but each time we are with each other, it's always magical.

In other news I was finally moved to a different location. Whew. It's great over here. I've got really good neighbors and as luck would have it - it's the same place I needed to get the book, too. I will give it to him first thing in the morning. I'm very tired, so I will close for the day. Good night world!



October 27, 2005

Wow! Finally off of the lock down and a hot meal to boot. It's turning out to be a darn good week. I went to recreation at around 2 in the afternoon dropping off the book. The man was very grateful. He must have thanked me a dozen times. I felt good before, but I felt intensely good for bring­ing the book to him. He had tears in his eyes, which pained my heart, but I felt good for being able to give two friends this last moment.


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