October 6th, 2000

Chalkboard

(no subject)

'If you would remember me, and there is no reason anyone should, do it like this: Be nicer to each other. Always listen. Do it calmly. Know that every jerk you face has had it just as hard as you. Be kind to them. And never hurt a child. Never hurt an animal. Never hurt a woman. Don't hurt each other."

http://www.livejournal.com/users/warchild/
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Chalkboard

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Dear David,

I can't stop crying. I got to know you, fall in love with you, and then found out that you died, all in one painful sitting. I'm so broken hearted. What a beautiful, lovely, powerful, gentle man you are.

I went to a funeral once, where the priest said that there is something to a good death, that dying is an important sacrament, as important as baptism or marriage, because it teaches the people we leave behind so very much. Thank you for teaching me about your ability to love and change.

Thank you for teaching me about taking stock of a life before death, and making amends. Thank you for your beautiful voice and the poetry of your words. Thank you for being a beautiful example of survival, despite horrible senseless pain. Thank you for bringing me England in the rain, and bumblebees in jars. Thank you for reminding me that I should take the holes in my stomach more seriously, if only for my little boy's sake, and do something about them. Thank you for sharing your life and your joy and your grief.

In reading your journal I can't help but be struck by the depth and quality of your writing and a sort of prescient quality that moved you to write this to your friends;

"Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some stay for awhile and leave footprints on our hearts. And we are never, ever the same."

Thank you for reminding me that it's life that matters, my beloved son, my mate, my friends, my family, my animal companions, the clouds, the grass, the rain, not the crap that you accumulate, not business or computers, animals and children and I have so many and am so lucky. Thank you.

"If you would remember me, and there is no reason anyone should, do it like this: Be nicer to each other. Always listen. Do it calmly. Know that every jerk you face has had it just as hard as you. Be kind to them. And never hurt a child. Never hurt an animal. Never hurt a woman. Don't hurt each other."

I Love you.

Jacqui
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Chalkboard

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"If some arbitrary person sees this remember to be good to yourself. Have faith in yourself. There are enough jerks and fuck heads out there looking to destroy your dreams, there is no good reason to help them along. Do not doubt yourself and if you're bored you can always work on your swagger, or your Academy Award acceptance speech.
Take care."
http://www.livejournal.com/users/warchild
Chalkboard

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God, I was sound asleep when my housekeeper came in the room and said, "Miss Jacqui, your mother called you and said to call her rrrright back! So I told her you were in de bathrrroooom." Scared me to death and I swear I was in the middle of the best dream. It was one of those hot tease dreams where you're trying to make love over and over again, and every time something stops you just as you're about to screw so you're just dying. We were looking and looking for a place where we could do it and every time we'd get down on the floor someone would interrupt, so finally we were just about to make love and I hear this voice calling out to me from the driveway and it's Cappucine or Lauren Bacall or Ingrid Bergman, I'm not sure which.

When my mother calls it could be something I'm busted for, something so bad there will be repercussions of atomic proportions, or it could mean my father is in the hospital or has died, or she needs to be taken to the hospital, or it could be nothing. I had to breathe, and pray, and chant, before I called. It was nothing. Thank God, but this is a truly hellish way to live.

I went by David's journal again and read some more. I looked at his friends. He had a small list and we had a few in common. I clicked on the ones I didn't know and found the woman he refers to as F. I felt badly for her. In his writing I saw her as cruel to this magnificently romantic man. But she seems very young and lives so far away. Now I believe there is another side to this and I wonder. Not every one is perfect. A person doesn't have to be perfect for me to mourne him by any means. But I am learning that I am still very naive and so I am concerned about my gullibility. I have learned not to rush judge someone, again. Another valuable lesson. Another gift.

I just came back from looking for an image of Cappucine. It amazes me what I run into every time I go looking for something else, the Dead Sea Scrolls and the Vatican and Zionism, and of course coffee. My cat Tick is so heavy and has really strong healthy claws. He likes to ride on my shoulder. As soon as he sees me up he jumps, meow, meow, chatter, chatter, then he licks my ears. He bummed a ride into the office and now he's sitting on my monitor looking satisfied but curious. I worry about his health a lot because he catches lots of cold and likes to lay in any patch of sun he can find. He's albino so sun is very bad for his skin. He didn't know I had a chinchilla in here, he looks surprised.

I keep searching the mail for signs of my payment for the article on Burning Man. I need the money pretty badly now, what with Coco threatening and extorting all she can. She has turned very vicious and mean. She threatens to report me to every authority for my animals, I have more than three, so she knows I am vulnerable in this area. She called incessantly, at least twenty times a day, demanding money i don't owe but have agreed to pay so she'll go in peace. But I believe that nothing I do will satisfy her. She will never accept that her compulsive lying is the reason for her firing. She blames Esther for telling on her. She calls Esther and tells her lies, trying to convince her I am against her. She calls me and tells me lies about Esther trying to force me to fire her.

She tells me that her children, the one's I worked so hard to bring here and help, have been deported to Mexico and that she knows I did it. Althoughperhaps when I saw that she let her oldest daugter hit them with a broom, and forced them to kneel on the floor for I don't know how long, I should have. Then her sister came by and threatened to put spells and curses on me and told me Coco had been in the hospital for her nerves and that it was all my fault. Sometime later after one of mnay hang ups we *69'd her and her boyfriend answered so we hung up. Then he *69'd us right back and wanted to know who we were and why we had hung up. He seemed so kind, but then he told me that Coco hadn't been in the hospital for stress at all, she had been having an abortion. Then later he accused me for being responsible for the death of their first baby. I couldn't tell him that I knew she didn't love him and was just using him. If she had been pregnant, because frankly how can I believe anything she says now, it was probably from the time she got so drunk she ran off with her best friend's daughter's husband, or any of all the other men she slept with. But I can't be that mean. I think he'd rather believe it was his anyway. Desperation makes people ruthless, and an illegal Mexican unemploeyed alcoholic single mother of three is about as desperate as they come. God forgive me but it's a matter of survival. Esther said, "You know she's only been here for a little less than a year. You've given her two weeks pay, offerred references and help in finding a job. You were so good to her and look how she is treating you. Imagine if she'd been here three, she'd be taking away your house." Of course that was all said in Spanish but there's no use in sending you all off to babblefish when I can translate it for you ; )

When I was little my best friend's mother used to make these beautiful little felt animals with sequins that came in these Christmas craft packages. It seemed like she was always working on a set, and her tree glittered with them at Christmas. I always wanted just one. I even tried to make one, but I could never make one like she did. So through the years whenever I can find them I buy some. Somehow it makes me feel loved. I got some in the mail today. They are so pretty. There's a little poodle, a donkey, a lamb, an angel and a lion. The last time I saw her she was seemed so frail. I was so happy to see her again because I'd been to frightened to contact her after falling out with my friend. She said she'd stay in contact but it's the same old loss all over again. How can I be in touch with her when her daughter isn't even speaking to me and I am so hurt? I hope they are all well despite the hurt I miss them all so much.

Sometimes I think this is purgatory.

Jacqui
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