Sunday, April 4, 1999. 11:17.
Ladies and Gentlemen...the old Josh King is back.
Who wants to party?

Wednesday, April 7th, 1999. 23:47.
I been feeling like Indiana fucking Jones these past few days, in all the movies. I'm like Indy in Raiders, looking for that all important thing that can either save life or destroy it. I'm like Indy in Temple of Doom, trying to fight for a cause greater than myself. And I'm like Indy in Last Crusade exploring the mysterious power that people have only whispered about. All my visions and weird ass clairvoyances have been getting stronger. I don't know whether I see things coming due to logic or due to the sight. Fuck. That thing I mentioned on March 26 actually went the way of taking care of itself, through no action of mine...like I said it would. What I did not forsee was the side-effects that the thing has brought up. However, I'm under gag order not to discuss anything basically cause Christina will freak out on me and have me hauled away. So stay tuned and hopefully I'll still be in good enough condition to keep you posted.
Didn't mean to bother anyone with this, just had to get that off my chest.

Sunday, April 18, 1999. 11:47
You ever have one of those nights? You know, where you can't even remember who you are and you don't even remember one thing about yourself and someone else is in control? I think that happened to me on Friday night. Quite an experience I must say. It didn't better me, I guess not. It was just weird. There's always been one constant thing in my life, like in science, there's a control. A non variable, and when things get different, then that is the experiment, and now is the norm. Different things I've done, places I've been, people I've known, all just experiments, just tests, just occurences. Who I am now and what I do now I believe is who I am. How I feel now about myself is the constant... certain developments have convinced me not to let go of those traits, I think I need them to survive. Without them, then I am consumed by the depression and solitude. Shit, I'm startin to sound like this one guy I met last year. He was fucked up to the highest level of fuckedupness. Naw, I can't and won't become him. This will be the last entry on the matter.
Didn't mean to bother anyone with this, just had to get that off my chest.

Sunday, April 25, 1999. 21:37.
Here I am, another year older, another birthday that sucked ass. Whoopty shit.

Sunday, May 16, 1999. 19:45.
Same old stuff goin on. Not really though. Work is gettin to be a pain in the ass, I almost hit a guy who was giving me shit just cause he couldn't get a stupid rubbermaid storage chest that we were out of. He called me a "fuckin retard, a bullshitter" and didn't want to see my ass in the store if he ever shopped there again. I wanted to hit him, lay the shit the waste like we did back in the day. But I walked away. This time.
I went to Williamstown's prom, that was fun as hell, just what I needed I think to bring me outta the hole I was in. Very grateful for that I must say. Now my words of advice: Never drive without a front license plate, never drive without all lights working, never give your phone number to a girl who thinks adverbs are a good topic of conversation, and never attempt a spin kick off a pile of logs. Oh yeah, please stop in to Target and try and cheer me up, work isn't as fun as it once was, I'll keep you posted. Didn't mean to bother anyone with this, just had to get that off my chest.

Tuesday, May 25, 1999. 21:41.
So I was sooooo right about myself. I knew I was. This kid tried to tell me otherwise, but they failed. Don't think I'll be swayed again. Now, school is almost over, summer is about to arrive. Hopefully it won't suck.
Owen Hart 1966-1999