Dear Diary,
Man, I hope the other dudes don't find you. That would totally suck. I would totally get japped if that happened. But sometimes I think they have diaries, too. Oh well, I'll probably never know.
I know I never told you, Diary. Shit, I never told no one, but I never really wanted to be in a gang. All I really wanted to do was to open up a nice Italian deli like my grandfather had. Hopefully, after all the soldierin' and wastin' and wreckin' is done with the Warriors, I'll have enough bread saved up to start my own little place.
And I know I got the big one, but I never really like it when we pull a train on some chick. I still hope to find a nice girl some day, and I just don't think a nice girl is going to want to marry a guy that has been the caboose of dozens of trains. Even if he does have a big one. I guess I'll just have to keep the trains a secret, but then you just open up a whole new set of problems.
Diary, what can I do? How can I cut back my participation in the wreckin' without seeming like a total wimp? I like these guys, and the Warriors is my life, so it would suck if I lost that, but I just feel myself being pulled farther and farther from where I originally envisioned myself at this point in my life. I mean, my brother Fredo has joined the priesthood, my sister Sophia married a nice Italian boy and has started a family, and here I am sitting in the head at a run-down gang headquarters getting ready to go out and bust some heads, do some general soldierin' to protect the turf, and by tomorrow I will probably have participated in at least two trains. After all, I have got the big one. Oh shit, diary, I don't know if I can take this any more! I really am a Vermin, I guess.
Cleon says that Cyrus' big happenin' is still going on. I'm excited! We never get to go into the city! I think it will be fun and good for us as a gang. I've heard there are some all-girl outfits in the city. Maybe I can meet a nice girl who is like me and wants to get out of the life, but who won't hold all the shit I've done against me because she's been there, herself. Ooh, baby, oh baby, I'm beginning to feel my temperature rise just thinking about it!
Well, I guess that's it, diary. It's off to another night of protecting our turf here in Coney. Maybe we'll ride the Wonder Wheel tonight. I love the feel of the mist from the ocean on my face when I'm at the top.
Sincerely,
Francis (Vermin)
P.S. I keep having this ominous dream about baseball bats, roller skates, subway tokens, and clinking bottles. I wonder what it means? Maybe I'll ask Rembrandt. He's pretty smart and probably knows all about that stuff.
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