Oddjob0226
4th Level Indigo Feather
- Joined
- Apr 22, 2001
- Messages
- 6,852
- Points
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Meet my friend Sharla.
I encountered her in the 3rd grade when she just moved to my town and she sat next to me. We were friends and we used to do our word puzzles together in English class. She wore white ruffly dresses and said she was related to Catharine the Great. Over the years we drifted apart but I always felt very positive about her, always considered her a friend and admired her. In high school she used to used to write and sing songs, hoping to make that a career, and as a high school kid that impressed me, that she had something she took so seriously and was devoted to it. Other teens were being goofy, and she was making something happen. Eventually, Sharla became the youngest person to get a degree in Cosmetology in the state of Texas.
Over the years as I traveled my own bumpy creative path, I always wondered about her, my admiration for her growing over the years, and wondered what happened to her, did she ever publish her music, or did life lead her anywhere else?. On Dec. 28, 2003 in the strangest event, after 18-19 years of knowing nothing about her, she came up to me in a department store parking lot, asking for assistance. We didn't recognize each other. Eventually, she saw one of my paintings in my car, unfinished and ugly, as it was giving me trouble and I couldn't "get it right". She loved it, and asked me to paint her. And that's when she introduced herself. It was the oddest, creepy-supernatural but exciting feeling. Once we had both recognized one another, we talked for 15 minutes about almost every possible subject, promising we'd later address the ones we didn't get to. Her last words to me were an enthusiastic "We'll do lunch!" I looked SO forward to learning all about her all over again, just like it was the 3rd grade once more. After almost 20 years!
Well, we never had lunch. Thursday, March 11, at the age of 36, we had her funeral.
This isn't for anyone who uses drugs socially. This isn't for any one who may already be addicted. This is only for those who don't do drugs:
Do not start. Ever ever.
Her friends couldn't save her, her family couldn't save her, her parole officer couldn't save her, her doctors couldn't save her, her religion couldn't save her.
Do not start.
Often in these cases people say they never had a chance to say 'good-bye'. I hardly got the chance to say 'hello'.
I encountered her in the 3rd grade when she just moved to my town and she sat next to me. We were friends and we used to do our word puzzles together in English class. She wore white ruffly dresses and said she was related to Catharine the Great. Over the years we drifted apart but I always felt very positive about her, always considered her a friend and admired her. In high school she used to used to write and sing songs, hoping to make that a career, and as a high school kid that impressed me, that she had something she took so seriously and was devoted to it. Other teens were being goofy, and she was making something happen. Eventually, Sharla became the youngest person to get a degree in Cosmetology in the state of Texas.
Over the years as I traveled my own bumpy creative path, I always wondered about her, my admiration for her growing over the years, and wondered what happened to her, did she ever publish her music, or did life lead her anywhere else?. On Dec. 28, 2003 in the strangest event, after 18-19 years of knowing nothing about her, she came up to me in a department store parking lot, asking for assistance. We didn't recognize each other. Eventually, she saw one of my paintings in my car, unfinished and ugly, as it was giving me trouble and I couldn't "get it right". She loved it, and asked me to paint her. And that's when she introduced herself. It was the oddest, creepy-supernatural but exciting feeling. Once we had both recognized one another, we talked for 15 minutes about almost every possible subject, promising we'd later address the ones we didn't get to. Her last words to me were an enthusiastic "We'll do lunch!" I looked SO forward to learning all about her all over again, just like it was the 3rd grade once more. After almost 20 years!
Well, we never had lunch. Thursday, March 11, at the age of 36, we had her funeral.
This isn't for anyone who uses drugs socially. This isn't for any one who may already be addicted. This is only for those who don't do drugs:
Do not start. Ever ever.
Her friends couldn't save her, her family couldn't save her, her parole officer couldn't save her, her doctors couldn't save her, her religion couldn't save her.
Do not start.
Often in these cases people say they never had a chance to say 'good-bye'. I hardly got the chance to say 'hello'.
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