User blog:Spikewitwicky/June 18, 1994 - Spike's Journal Entry



Last night in the hospital/rehab facility.

Message to the Karma gods: If there was a message I was supposed to receive this past year, trust me, I got it. Loud and clear.

"At all times, be humble in your life" - Otherwise, we'll jump you, beat you into an inch of your life, temporarily paralyze you, leave you in a coma for 4 months, destroy the 70-story skyscraper you've been working on, make you miss the birth of your son (because you were in a coma at the time), force your waspy in-laws to uproot THEIR lives to move in with Carly and help raise Daniel while she complete grad school. Oh, and put me through 3 months of excruciating physical (and speech) therapy as I try to walk again after having my femer, pelvis, and tibia fractured in several places. All for that one stupid, split-second decision I made to kick Frenzy 's head off his body while he was wounded. Yes, Karma gods, I read you loud and clear.

My beef is that isn't Karma supposed to be a two-way street? Where's the proportional reprocussions against the Decepticons after they brought an entire damn planet into our orbit and killed tens of thousands of people in the process? I did a childish thing and paid for it by missing my son's birth and had to spend nearly 2 months in the hospital with nurses literally doing EVERYTHING for me. The Decepticreeps give Earth a disaster the writers of the Bible would envy...and no repercussions.

Had a crazy night last night. Dad and I were watching the playoffs in my room, but suddenly, almost every TV got changed to the O.J. Simpson police chase. I swear, you would think the entire hospital stopped in its tracks. Even my roommate, who was complaining about everything shut the hell up for a solid 3 hours. It was...surreal. Like one of those times where every person drops what they're doing and watches television. For dad's generation, it was the moon landing. For my generation, I guess it's the OJ chase. Talk about progress, huh?

I'm going home. And I've given this a lot of thought (what else could I do for these past few months?). I'm ready to rejoin the Autobots. I tried making it on my own. And for a few glorious months, I succeeded. But now with a new kid, I just can't take that chance again of having a pissed-off Decepticon come after me. We'll see.

On another note, I would like to make it official in this journal, but not to my dad: In my eyes, in my family's eyes, and to document it in this journal - Buster Witwicky shall be my brother in name only. The 10-so odd months I've been here, he hasn't visited me once. I'm going to take the high road though. Christmas, Thanksgiving, whatever - I will shake his hand - ask how life is for him - to save dad any heartache. But in my mind - he is as close to me as a distant cousin who I may have met once when I was a kid. He made his bed. He can lie in it. Spikewitwicky (talk) 16:28, May 29, 2015 (UTC)