The first man I ever knew from Australia was not a man missing half his body. He was a man without a face, some random person on the internet with a profile picture that included his torso (covered in tattoos) but no head.
I met the man on a fitness website. BODYBUILDING.COM I was on the site because I was trying to promote myself as a writer. The response I got was huge. It wasn’t long before letter after letter began arriving in my inbox. There were a lot of people who had thoughts about my writing. He was one of them.
The man I knew from Australia was not a happy person. He had lived a terrible life before he died. He sent me this message on his last day on earth.
“From Anna Sewell’s Black Beauty,” he wrote, ““I have nothing to fear; and here my story ends. My troubles are all over, and I am at home …”
There were only two people who attended his funeral. I was not surprised to hear that no one came to pay respect to him. He made it clear that he was not pleasant. He was not even nice to me. I saved his emails. This is one of them. It was the first that helped me understand why he hated himself so severly. He wrote about one of my blogs.
Dean Dogg <email@example.com>
Toamberyou should of told me right from the get go that your blog isnt accurate, it would of saved me from making a right dick of myself by nutting off at you.
as for the idiots who ask you for boob pics,nudes,something to wank off by…that aint me i would never try to exploit you in any way just to get my jollies
i love you simply for being you…nothing more and nothing less,
must admit now to you that you have made me smile…(yes you heard me right) you give me a full on bollocking and then come back with wanting to come here and me being your jump buddy in a sky dive-talk about an about face well played lolwell you know my name,you know where im from so heres a little more insight for you.i was born 45 yrs ago and promptly put in a foster home as that long ago solo mums were kinda frowned upon
i was bounced around the system till i was 13 when i started living on the streets, by then i had been in 11 homes and shit loads of trouble
i have been a alcoholic,a drug addict,a gang member… i have been in prison 3 times
i have been shot,stabbed and on deaths door or more than one occasion
i have been in a mental institution…i suffer from abandonment issues apparently
when i was 32 i decided to strighten my self up which wasnt a easy thing to do as all my life id been told i was useless and i guess here i am today
broken but still plodding along
i dont give of myself freely or easily for fair of rejecton which yourve prob already gathered
for me its easier to live in darkness rather than sun and smiles
when i give i give my all and when i crash i go down hard
yes im a tough nut but like a nut its just a shell that doesnt want to be broken and have its softness exposed
this past yr has been the hardest for me in a long time on so many different levels
im so tired all the time but i keep trying to put my best foot forward
so my friend i hope you slept well and are having a good day, im gonna shower and try for a few hrs sleep now
BE STAUNCH……WALK TALL
I thought of my friend in Australia today. I thought about him after getting a message from another friend I do not know, the same kind of friend who has known a hard life, a friend who is feeling hopeless. I thought about how the dead can inspire the living to live. My friend in Australia died of a brain tumor. He lived through hell to finally and at last make a reasonable life for himself only to learn that he was going to die. He was angry when he died. I think it was the first time in his whole life that he realized that he wanted to live all along. Then it was too late. He was angry about that for sure.