For a long time, I was a nervous fucking wreck. But now, things have changed. I've had this new job for a while, and it's pretty cool. Fuckin workin on planes and shit. That and the people I work with are funny as fuck. Hell, I play ping pong on breaks. I'm makin good money and finally getting somewhere in life. Shit's good career-wise.
But wait... .there's more! The weather has been pretty badass. Been out on my bike a TON lately. Nothing makes me fuckin happier than that rusty death trap of mine. Freedom in its most pure form.
And one more thing. I've met a new girl. She's as cute as can be, and has as much energy and a "let's get the fuck up and do this shit" attitude as I do. I'm excited to see where this goes.
Good weather, mad money, pretty gal, riding... things are good now. You know... maybe all the shit I just went through happened for a reason. It wasn't fun. It didn't seem right. I felt like shit. But things just feel "right" right now. Maybe there is some kind of unseen "plan" for things. I don't know. I've always just been the type that lets things happen as they come and just goes with the flow. And man....... things are flowin nice.
Two people will read this blog.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Friday, January 20, 2012
Happy Birthday
So at work today, I felt real depressed. I didn't know why, but everyone was asking me why I was so quiet and unsocial. I thought, at first, that it was because I had been working eleven days straight, 9+ hours each night. I felt like a zombie. But my heart felt heavy. I looked at the calendar and realized the date was January 19, the day before my best childhood friend's birthday.
His name is Andrew Proctor. I met him in middle school. Our sixth grade English teacher yelled at the both of us one day for talking during one of her bullshit lectures. We weren't talking. In fact, we didn't know each other at all. She put us in "isolation" several times, and the entire time we kept glancing at each other with looks on our faces like "what the fuck? I don't even know you. We weren't talking to each other..." We never knew why she thought it was us that was talking. So we started hanging out from that day on. Best of friends. Anyway, he passed away February 8th, 2008, due to suicide. I went all night at work tonight wondering what it was that I was feeling, and until I finally knew what day it was, it hit me. It's strange how the mind works, isn't it?
Anyway, today is his birthday. He's 23 now. January 20th. I'm getting up early to go to his grave and have a beer with him before I go into work. It's something I've done now for the past three years.
Andrew was an excellent writer. Extremely smart. I was always jealous of all of his abilities. If he put his mind to it, he'd perfect it. I've tried to live my life as such ever since.
Here's a song that eerily reminds me of a poem he wrote. It was played at his funeral, and I haven't been able to listen to it dry eyed since.
His name is Andrew Proctor. I met him in middle school. Our sixth grade English teacher yelled at the both of us one day for talking during one of her bullshit lectures. We weren't talking. In fact, we didn't know each other at all. She put us in "isolation" several times, and the entire time we kept glancing at each other with looks on our faces like "what the fuck? I don't even know you. We weren't talking to each other..." We never knew why she thought it was us that was talking. So we started hanging out from that day on. Best of friends. Anyway, he passed away February 8th, 2008, due to suicide. I went all night at work tonight wondering what it was that I was feeling, and until I finally knew what day it was, it hit me. It's strange how the mind works, isn't it?
Anyway, today is his birthday. He's 23 now. January 20th. I'm getting up early to go to his grave and have a beer with him before I go into work. It's something I've done now for the past three years.
Andrew was an excellent writer. Extremely smart. I was always jealous of all of his abilities. If he put his mind to it, he'd perfect it. I've tried to live my life as such ever since.
Here's a song that eerily reminds me of a poem he wrote. It was played at his funeral, and I haven't been able to listen to it dry eyed since.
I had never met anyone with so much life, happiness, will, and intelligence. I hope there's something out there.... something that will bring me back into his presence.
Bless your soul, Andrew. I love you.
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