Cydniey Buffers (cydniey) wrote,
Cydniey Buffers

"i'm your worn in leather jacket"

i've looked everywhere. it was hanging in my closet. my precious leather. the first punk item i bought myself. the same day i got my first pair of combat boots. it was 27 years old, soft as lambskin. it had chain maile on one shoulder and sex pistols and dead kennedys buttons on it. the lining was ripped out and it was the most comfy thing i owned.

now, those who know me know i have a back-up leather. but it was a gift from someone and it's way too big on me and not as soft and IT'S NOT MY LEATHER.

we left mike in the house overnight after telling him to leave and trusted he would do the right thing. but with the amount of stuff that was precious to me that's missing, i'm guessing the right thing never occurred to him.

i once stole $10 worth of pot from him. he made me pay him $60 for it. he ripped us off every chance he got and acted holier than thou. let's hear it for christlike love. if you need god to be a good person, you're not a good person.

now my goal is to somehow hunt him down. i'm sure i'll never get my leather or any of my stuff back, but i will get even with him. gods help him if i ever run into him. i will stab him so many times they will have trouble identifying the body. he's shown me enough horror movies. maybe if i take an eye and make him eat it.

i can't key his car, it's got a fucking alarm on it. i can, however spray paint it. i will find a way to terrorize him. he's got a lifetime of hurt and failure waiting for him and i will cause it. he called me a cunt and i promised him cunt was what he was going to get. getting thrown out of the house wasn't enough to humble him. someone needs to take him down.

i want to stab him in the throat and laugh while he screams. the very idea of him covered in his own blood makes me happy.

so this all started when i got drunk this morning and decided to go outside for a smoke. i went into my closet where i hung both my leathers and the special one was gone. i searched other closets, the floor of my own, my room, everywhere. i haven't gone to wear it since we moved in, so i didn't even notice until now. and i wondered how my closet door got opened the night we stayed at the apartment and mike stayed here.

so far, that's one logitech track ball (just the ball), the batteries out of my vibrator, and my precious leather. i think he owes me a finger, or at least an ear.

i feel so impotent. and violated. that leather had been through so much with me. so many shows, so many people touched it. every boy or girlfriend i ever had tried to take it from me and no one ever succeeded. until this fat balding 20 something loser came into my life.

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