Monday, July 6, 2015

What's the fucking point?What

I got a surprising text from an old high school friend the other day. One of our close friends from high school died last week. His name was Joe and he died of an apparent drug overdose. I hadn't seen Joe since high school, but he lived across the street from me. We grew up together. He was a good person. And now he's dead. "Found in his apartment dead of an apparent drug overdose."

No one told me that life starts taking shit away when we get older. Parents, friends, passion, muscle, hair. I'm fat and frustrated and now people I rode bikes with as a child are dying. I'm not ready for this. I'm not emotionally equipped to handle this reality.

Are we just supposed accept things as they happen? Where the fuck do I lodge a goddammed complaint? Because I got complaints, man. A lot of fucking complaints.

Joe was funny. He made me laugh. All my memories of him are funny. I wonder what people will think of me when I die. Will my son think I was good dad?

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