Chatham University Fund
Donation protected
I once got so high in my apartment alone that I pretended that I was someone else for three whole days. I didn’t sleep much. Just those little tiny naps that you can snatch whenever every tissue of your body is doused in alcohol and stimulants. I wore the same stained underwear and didn’t bathe and stepped over piles of garbage on my floor in a manic state. If anyone from the outside had seen me, I’m sure they would have put me away. Bloodshot eyes, stinking to high heaven inside a garbage dump. I paced back and forth frantically frothing at the mouth, taking more drugs and reading to my cat, Maya from “Ark of Bones”. She looked worried and annoyed the way that cats sometimes do. She sat on my lap and looked up at me despite the fact that my entire home was on fire with crazy that was emanating directly from me. Maya has seen some shit. I didn’t know what to do, so I taught her passages from “Ark of Bones”. I slept in the middle of the living room floor under garbage afraid to go outside. I wished I were dead.
I started writing in rehab in the wee hours because my roommate snored and a fat junkie girl kept stealing my cinnamon bun at dinnertime. I remember sitting on my bed by lamplight listening to him saw logs and scribbling furiously in my notebook about how she’d stolen the last cinnamon bun again. I started writing in rehab because it was quiet and I took my first steps to becoming the person I was meant to be. But, at the same time wondering how I’d gotten here and where all the time went.
When I was pacing back and forth in my home high as a kite, I imagined myself someone “important”. I imagined myself someone who could make a difference in the world. A new man. And never in my wildest imaginings did I consider that I could ever be a writer of anything that anyone wanted to publish or a thinker or a doer or in any way anything other than a lump of taking and dysfunction. I waved my hands over my head when I “taught” “Ark of Bones” to Maya. She did not appreciate that shit. But, I feel that, someday, someone will. And it’s time for me to let down my pride. It’s time for me to make an appeal. It’s not easy to do this as everyone who starts one of these things says. But, you miss 100 percent of the shots that you don’t take, so I’m going to make an appeal.
I am the proud owner of 3 jobs and all of them put together will not be enough for me to make my final push through Chatham University. It is a wonderful school. But, it ain’t cheap and I want to finish and I want to teach and I want to write. This is what I want to do with my life. So, I am appealing for tuition money. I’m not going to make it with all the working and the saving. It’s just not going to be possible and loan companies aren’t really very amenable to giving money to ex drug addicts who couldn’t have care less about their credit for 20 years. So, I am asking my friends for donations. Anything helps. I am trying to raise 10,000 dollars. Of course, Pride is an issue. But, I have to weigh that against how much I want this and it does make me feel better to know that people donate toward women’s titty jobs.
When I first went back to school, I was nervous and frightened and embarrassed. But, throughout the course of my classes, I have noticed that, when I speak from the back of the room, the other students turn around to look at me and listen to me. I feel that I was put here to do this and that’s a big thing for someone like me. That’s a big thing for anyone.
I don’t know anyone who’s rich. But, if you can find it within yourself to donate, I would be most appreciative. I’ve tried to make it and now we’re down to the wire and it’s starting to look like it might not happen. So, here I am. Asking……
If you cannot donate, of course I understand. Maya and I are gonna be alright. She was my first student and I believe that she’s benefitted from my tutelage. I am a very lucky man and I have all that I need. But, there is no harm in wanting more and as the date approaches, I fear I'm not going to make it this year. I’d like to be more. I’d like to give more and I’m so close to a finish line.
No funds raised will be used for the purchase of Axe Body Spray, the Hamburger Helper or Oreos. If you do not wish to help through this forum, donations can be sent directly to Chatham University at 1 Woodland Rd. Please PM me for my student ID.
Sincerely,
Brian E Broome.
I started writing in rehab in the wee hours because my roommate snored and a fat junkie girl kept stealing my cinnamon bun at dinnertime. I remember sitting on my bed by lamplight listening to him saw logs and scribbling furiously in my notebook about how she’d stolen the last cinnamon bun again. I started writing in rehab because it was quiet and I took my first steps to becoming the person I was meant to be. But, at the same time wondering how I’d gotten here and where all the time went.
When I was pacing back and forth in my home high as a kite, I imagined myself someone “important”. I imagined myself someone who could make a difference in the world. A new man. And never in my wildest imaginings did I consider that I could ever be a writer of anything that anyone wanted to publish or a thinker or a doer or in any way anything other than a lump of taking and dysfunction. I waved my hands over my head when I “taught” “Ark of Bones” to Maya. She did not appreciate that shit. But, I feel that, someday, someone will. And it’s time for me to let down my pride. It’s time for me to make an appeal. It’s not easy to do this as everyone who starts one of these things says. But, you miss 100 percent of the shots that you don’t take, so I’m going to make an appeal.
I am the proud owner of 3 jobs and all of them put together will not be enough for me to make my final push through Chatham University. It is a wonderful school. But, it ain’t cheap and I want to finish and I want to teach and I want to write. This is what I want to do with my life. So, I am appealing for tuition money. I’m not going to make it with all the working and the saving. It’s just not going to be possible and loan companies aren’t really very amenable to giving money to ex drug addicts who couldn’t have care less about their credit for 20 years. So, I am asking my friends for donations. Anything helps. I am trying to raise 10,000 dollars. Of course, Pride is an issue. But, I have to weigh that against how much I want this and it does make me feel better to know that people donate toward women’s titty jobs.
When I first went back to school, I was nervous and frightened and embarrassed. But, throughout the course of my classes, I have noticed that, when I speak from the back of the room, the other students turn around to look at me and listen to me. I feel that I was put here to do this and that’s a big thing for someone like me. That’s a big thing for anyone.
I don’t know anyone who’s rich. But, if you can find it within yourself to donate, I would be most appreciative. I’ve tried to make it and now we’re down to the wire and it’s starting to look like it might not happen. So, here I am. Asking……
If you cannot donate, of course I understand. Maya and I are gonna be alright. She was my first student and I believe that she’s benefitted from my tutelage. I am a very lucky man and I have all that I need. But, there is no harm in wanting more and as the date approaches, I fear I'm not going to make it this year. I’d like to be more. I’d like to give more and I’m so close to a finish line.
No funds raised will be used for the purchase of Axe Body Spray, the Hamburger Helper or Oreos. If you do not wish to help through this forum, donations can be sent directly to Chatham University at 1 Woodland Rd. Please PM me for my student ID.
Sincerely,
Brian E Broome.
Organizer
Brian Broome
Organizer
Pittsburgh, PA
