Whew! I thought it'd be easy to just set down and type up all these things and put them out there for people to see -- if anybody is reading this that is -- but man, as soon as I started reading all these diary entries and looking at the originals -- some is written on paper, and some is on paper towels and just about anything. One year I wrote a bunch in the margins of a magazine i had -- But anyway, once I started doing this, and even seen the blood that was on some of the pages it all come rushing back over me and it got to be overwelming.
I was setting there the other night and I thought i was going to go crazy so I had to go outside and stand there and look up at the stars and say over an over to myself, your free your free. Nobody's gonna fuck you up the ass tonight. And nobody did, neither. Thank God.
I sometimes have a hard time dealing with having been a fuck rag for a bunch of assholes. And I was a fuck rag. They used to have me set there next to the ass of some boy they was fucking and when he cum in that boy's ass, he'd pull out and make me suck him clean before he put his dick back in his pants. It was no kind of life for a man to live, and it ain't like you even think of yourself as a man if you lived that life. You is some sorta animal, lower than a animal because nobody what loves his pet is gonna do that to him.
Trust me, Rubin, he didn't love me. He just fucked me.
I'll try to write more, but like i said just typing this stuff is difficult. It's difficult not to get all caught up in it and set there thinking "I could go kill this motherfucker if i wanted to." But of course, then I'd be right back in jail, i'd be right back in the whorehouse. I'm not doing that, i'm staying free. I killed some people once and I got punished for it. I just want to do what I do and make a decent living and be left alone.
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