Here it is. Post 100. I expected some big thing, but it's 11:27 and I should be in bed, so don't expect Shakespeare. Instead, all I want to say is that today was not a good day. I keep pretty quiet these days for a bunch of reasons. Mainly being the people I thought I could trust kind of let me down. Not all of them. Enough of them, though. I learned. I don't make the same mistakes twice. Second, I've been happier. No need to write about pain when I have good things on the horizon.
It was hard to see that horizon today. It was cloudy.
I hate feeling second class. I hate feeling like my daughter is slipping away from me. I hate it all, and I'm tired of it.
What can I do? I know what I have to do, and I know what I will do. Some will understand. Some will not. Some will approve. Some will not. Don't really care either way.
Post 100. The title is from a great comic book series. You are given a gun with 100 bullets. You are to set things straight. You won't get in trouble. The gun and bullets can't be traced.
If only life were so easy.
100 bullets.
Still ain't enough.
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