Last night I spoke with Steve and when I called I had no intention of bringing up Maliheh or the tapes. I figured it would deepen my anger and bum me out even more. Anyway, Steve just came out and said, “Ok, what happened?” It’s amazing how he knows when something’s wrong when I can explain to almost everyone else something good or bad and they still don’t get it.

So I told him and that really did make me feel a lot better. I told Steve that even though Maliheh’s a major asshole and I sometimes lash out on the phone to strangers when I’m bored or upset, I’m not making any more calls here in this tiny town. I told him how I told that to the cops and read him the letter I brought to the station today. They have their job to do and I respect that, but if only they can understand and believe how much I need those tapes. I’d gladly go to court but to never get my tapes back would be too much of a punishment in my eyes. I’d be so miserable and angry, even though, yes, what I did was wrong whether Maliheh deserved it or not, and they’ve got to do their job.

I’m constantly paranoid now knowing things are different in a small town. Even though they did try to be pleasant and talk to me and try to understand me, the nightmare will never end till I’m holding those tapes in my hands.

I told both Andy and Fran and they’re both just as upset as I am and Andy only has edit tape 1 and part of edit tape 2. He has none of edit tape 3 and I had some classic material on that tape. I had side A completed the last time I spoke to him before this shit happened and he loved it. It really came out great. At the time the cops took them, edit tape 3 was almost complete and I had edited down everything. It was a major project that I finished the night before they took them.

There is one thing I can say about that night and Andy said he had the same feeling. A horrible vision of the cops confiscating these tapes crawled over me and it was so bad that I tried to block it out. I tried telling myself that it couldn’t be. I wouldn’t accept such thoughts to be possible. No. No. No, it can’t be true as they never did this in Springfield, I thought. I know it does me no good, but I cannot help but think of all the things I could’ve done to save the tapes had I acted on my feeling. From now on, no matter how good, bad, scary, funny or bizarre a vibe I get, I’m not ignoring it.

All I know is that a big part of my life’s gone whether it’s wrong or right. No longer can I play those tapes to make me laugh or cheer me up when I’m upset. I can only remember and hear them in my head. Andy will have to mail me back what he has and it’s not much. There are still lots of arguments between Nervous and Fran that are so funny. I told Tammy the tape got eaten up and said she’d mail them back to me. She only has one tape, though. At least Andy has the Rick and Nervous argument and himself leaving that message on Nervous’s boss’s machine. I hope he’s got the complex argument too along with “East Shnoanok” (Andy singing backward) and the voice exercises I’ll need.

Even Kim’s so bummed out about it. Steve told me not to worry, but how can I not?

Later...

I called Andy a little while ago at the Denny’s he’s now working at. He told me he’d call around 9:00 this morning my time.

I remembered that I have a Steve Perry tape with only one song I like. I took the tape, played it and there it was. I cried, laughed and smiled but it’s not much. Only a few crossings. I won’t be completely happy till they’re all back if they ever are.

I miss Andy so much and never thought I’d feel so much emptier. Even emptier than in Springfield as much as I don’t miss Springfield and I love this apartment, I feel so much more trapped at times. The vision and that feeling that I’m destined to be a singer are never gonna go away. I feel so much more cut off from my friends and my musical possibilities. I miss doing all the things Andy and I used to do if nothing spectacular came out of it. I miss all the things we did. I miss Steve. I never figured I’d be so much more miserable and empty, even though, I’m grateful for this apartment and this area. Other than the violence and the drugs and really bad crimes, I miss certain things about the city. The phone calls were easier and no search warrant was ever done. Also, it’s much more convenient for people with no car. Mom and Dad always said how you’ve got to take chances in life, yet they’re so afraid of the idea of me moving to Arizona. They always have to control me. Like they give a damn about what they know I’ve wanted all my life? Whenever I’m upset about something, no matter what it is, they condemn me and make me feel ashamed and a fool for it. All they want is for me to be in a great mood and perfectly happy 365 days a year. They always put false words and ideas and thoughts in my mouth and in my mind. I feel like they don’t believe in me and all they want is for me to be grateful for living here, have no life, be here 24 hours a day with 4 walls and nobody and accept it. After having told me a year and a half ago, over the phone with Andy when I was in Florida they’d help move me there. It doesn’t matter if they said it 2 years ago or 10 years ago. The fact is, they said it. No one ever does anything they say they’re gonna do. And Mom says she can’t afford to move me to Phoenix? Bullshit!!! Well, I’m not gonna accept this life and kiss their assholes much longer. I wish I was dead! I’ll be damned if I’ll live a life of settling for second best anymore! I’m tired of doing things I don’t care about. I’m not gonna accept this life that they want for me! Oh, why couldn’t I have wanted to be anything other than a singer?! Why couldn’t I just be able to sleep with someone every few months if possible, without giving a damn about looks?! I’d really rather be dead than live the many years I have ahead feeling so unfulfilled. God, give me a break!!!!!!!!