Dear Kenny,

My sole reader, as time passes and my life draws closer to the end, I want you to know that your readership has meaning to me. As the counter digits roll forward one plus me each time I post, I know you are with me, that you read me, or at least, you know I am here. For that I am grateful.

To you, I leave a boot to the head, and all of my online posessions, excluding any and all content on the World Wide Web not posted on www.journalscape.com as of March 18, 2002, and therein limited to ascii text in the Courier font.

To my office, I leave a vacuous hole where a worker-turned-manager once believed himself an artist and pondered the Neutrogena factory workers leaving the newly paved parking lot at 2:30 on a Friday afternoon, a broken super-size lava lamp, and a Franchise Tax Board Earnings Witholding Order for Taxes in the bottom left drawer of my favorite yellow file cabinet.

To my journal, I leave Kenny, its sole reader.

Goodbye cruel world,
kisses,
Signed,

-Baraks last journal entry for today.