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9:50 a.m. - 2004-02-19
sometimes i don't understand why everyone has to be so mean. or why the world cannot spare the good people from badness. innocent people, who don't need to see badness yet. like my little brother.

last week, matt recieved some donations from school: books, socks, shoes, clothes, stuff. on his way home, carrying all that stuff, some flucking kids stopped him. they wouldn't let him pass with it. he got home empty-handed and barefoot. that broke my fucking heart. so bad. it still does. he has nothing to look forward to, my brother. and this was something, a little bit of happy in his sad life. then, that night, as his uniforms were finishing in the washer, some dickwad poured bleach in and started the wash again. his school clothes are completely screwed. his clothes. it is so hard to get clothes for him. not only is he growing nonstop, but we have no money to. and they are ruined. that broke my heart more. i had to see him. i had only seen him maybe twice since december so, i figured he needed it.

bob. that little kid is my hero. he is so much stronger than me. or at least on the outside. i couldn't do it. his attitude on his bleached pants was: nobody else at my school has pants like these-well, unless they copied me, and that'd be good. i wanted to choke him and kill him at that moment. to preserve his goodness, his purity. it isn't fair that the world around him is trying so hard to take that away from him. some kid put dog shit into his new steel-toed boots. they're ruined. he loved those shoes. but he isn't angry. he is not angry. i couldn't help my tears while i was talking to him. this is my 10 year old brother, being hurt daily by faces unseen-although he has ideas on who they are-and he doesn't hold any animosity towards the asshole. i feel guilty for not being there. to protect him. to distract him. i can't be there though. it would probably make things worse.

it just isn't fair that i have to sit back and watch. all because my mom couldn't hold a job. he has no anger towards her either. although she put them in that house with those people. i told him he is my role model. that he is my hero and i look up to him. he is. i cannot have the strength and optimism he does. maybe its because i know better. because i know that things usually don't turn out for the better in our family. and its the optimism that creates bitterness. but he doesn't know that yet. and i love him for it.

it makes me furious to know that people out there are hurting him. they have never heard him giggle. they have never watched him playing with babies. they never got him dressed for school or fed him dinner or put him to bed. they don't know him. they don't know about the books he reads so voraciously, over and over. they don't know about his hunger for knowledge and his quest for adventure. they don't know that he watched his father get shot in the head. they know nothing, and yet they take everything. it isn't fair.


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