April 29, 2010; sometime between 12:00am and 12:20am a man came into my work('man' might be giving him too much credit). I was sweeping the bathroom and heard the door. I turned and there he stood, red towel draped and covering most of his head, and he pointed a gun at me. He demanded something along the lines of money, open drawer, hands up- my body was in motion to do all the above Without request(the gun, it seems, is a powerful tool of translation- FOOD, MONEY, Your Life)

Needless to say, I am alright. I can jot down on things done in life - Be Held Up at Gun Point*check*.

I wasn't planning to tell everyone, but then I like writing. And this is a good reason for why I write journals- To Tell You I'm NOT Dead.

Those who don't read the journals, well... if something DID happen, they would be the stupid MouthBreathers who ask questions like "Do you do commissions?" when the commission info is somewhere Very Obvious. They will ask "What happen to Howl? Oh, guess he's just taking a while on the story" when my journal hasn't been updated in two years.

Mostly, I think it's cool that I found a Good Reason to update my journals more often.

P.S.-I'm not dead yet. ;3