Why I Committed Suicide by sam paul Read Free Book Online Page A

haven’t talked or thought about it at all.
    This evening we lit fireworks off the roof of her apartment down in Cement City. Anywhere else in Denton and the bastard police will cut your balls off for shooting fireworks, but they won’t come down to the ghetto. Typical America, but we used it to our advantageous amusement and had a fun time.
    Jenifer has a Ford Escort, which she affectionately calls “RedOne” and late in the evening while we were sexing it up in her apartment, someone came by and slashed her tires on the driver’s side. I could tell it kind of spooked her but it just made me really angry with no one to take it out on. It was very strange because we had only been at her apartment for about 30 minutes and she was just about to drive me home when we discovered the damage. She had parked across the street with the passenger side of RedOne facing her apartment, the culprit was probably fucking hiding on the far side of her car and watching her apartment as he cut her tires. Spooky stuff. Neither one of us could think of anyone who was aggravated with her in the slightest, but I am beginning to discover that weird-ness follows this girl.
    When Jenifer was at Texas A&M for her first brief year of college, she acquired a stalker. The guy would follow her to her apartment. Once he even cut the power to her apartment, before the police got involved. I guess if I want to psychotically obsess over Jenifer I will have to take a number. Thankfully I’m not that crazy yet, just taking advantage of the time we are together not worrying about the future or pining for my lost innocence and blaming generation X.
    What am I saying? Dese Nuts! Time to sleep.
    I may not have mentioned this before, but this summer, come hell or high water, I am going to go see the Grateful Dead. This second summer semester is my own time to play with and I AM going to go see the Grateful Dead. Throughout my many acid-filled years living in the dorms here at college and interacting with all the cool people in town, I’ve been hearing tales about how going to a Dead show is one of the ultimate life experiences. I don’t want to go for the drugs, I want to taste a little bit of true “On The Road” freedom. I’m young and I’ve got the stamina and the willpower to complete a cross-country journey, plus I’ve saved a little money to help butter my way across the veins of the U.S. At first I thought it might be romantic to hitchhike, but I’ve never done that before and I’m not sure I would get enough rides fast enough to get up to Oregon and still see the shows.
    Sing a song of sixpence, pocket full of rye.
    Right now, my worst-case scenario involves me taking my ‘74 VW bug with the flower stickers, the exhaust problem, the funky clutch and flying solo on the trip, but I really don’t want to do that. I could easily get stranded somewhere in the bounty of America’s heartland or the exhaust leak that makes me dizzy when I drive the car too far could cause brain damage by the time I make it to the Pacific Northwest. I explained my intentions to Jenifer and she suggested I put a flier up in the Karma Kafe’ since a lot of people in Denton who hang out there are going to the shows.
    So here’s the flier I put up:
     
    I need a ride to the Grateful Dead shows in Oregon
    on 8/22-8/23 and/or San Francisco shows 8/25, 26, 27 th .
    I have gas $$ & pot.
     
    Of course my ultimate fantasy would be to go with Her to the shows. It would be our first road trip together and seeing the Dead would be sweet, but she already committed to going with (gasp) Kristoff at the beginning of the summer. Calm blue Ocean, calm blue Ocean.
    Four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie.
    I’m actually all right with it. This trip will be a definitive point in our lives together I can just feel it. She told me that she wished she hadn’t promised to go with him so long ago but in a way it’s good. I’m praying it will help her decide she really wants to be