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  • At Twenty years old I was in a '76 Chevy Chevette following an old International pickup truck with a Uhaul trailer hitched to its sagging ass. My brother, my fiance and I were moving from Pennsylvania to Utah. My fiance were getting married in a month - we had no jobs and a couple thousand dollars in savings. My brother was along for the adventure of being independent.

    I was too young to be married. I had lived a pretty full life for a Twenty, she had not. I had no idea where I was headed, she had no idea where to even start. Confused by all this we decided to have a child. She came into the world and was promptly diagnosed with cancer.

    It was a very brutal, very blunt hammer of reality. I can only speak for me because at that point in my life "ME" was all I gave a damn about. The hammer repeatedly beat me bloody. It beat religion out of me. It beat common sense out of me. It beat the last buttons of sanity from my shiny facade suit. The final point of realization came in the chair of a strip club with a cigarette and a beer. I went there because it spat in the face of every single thing I had lived for the past three years.

    And so the blur begins. It wasn't a downward slide into tits and alcohol (I'd already been through that phase in my life). It was a blur towards an inevitable psychotic break. Fun times lay ahead...death, guns, divorce, success, failure and a very long night without a glass of tea.
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