It's been a while and I've been meaning to write some things, just been waiting for things to even out a bit. I've started a couple blogs on various websites but this is the only one that I come back to time and time again, even if the posts are few are far in between. It's pretty much comical at this point that I gravitate towards an internet fetish forum to bleed my mind. I'm only slightly cracked, I swear. 
I had planned on writing about this, that and the everything but instead I have to begin on a somber note. An old friend of mine just passed away two days ago, very quickly and suddenly. It's only appropriate to devote some thoughts, words and reflect on it a bit.
We met when I started my previous job about ten years ago now. We worked a ton of hours together, an absurd amount of time. In all honesty it was an unhealthy amount of time and that job contributed to a lot of his issues which utlimately lead him down his broken path. He had a very extreme personality when it came to addictions. When I met him he had a very, very serious cocaine problem. I can't recall how many years it went on for but he would literally do coke all day long at work, all fuckin' day. He made 50k a year but didn't have enough money to take the bus to work.
Probably a year after I started, I was moving into my first apartment and simultaneously he could no longer afford an apartment because of his habits. So him and his girl moved in with me for about year or so until he could get his shit together. At that point he was still blowing lines but not quite as much. I've never done coke, fuckin' thankfully, and I think that influence along with the fact of him being unable to support himself shifted his mindset. Also the fact that he made a shitload of money and nothing to show for it probably weighed on his mind.
At that point we working like 10-12 hour days together, six days a week a lot of the times and then living together. That's a lot of time to be around somebody but we always got along and I think that's because we were a lot a like. I have that same exact personality type except I have a bit more self control and I like to think that he tried to learn from that. Things like diet and exercise were things he saw me adhere to and he worked on incorporating those ideals into his life. Given the right circumstances and focus, those extreme, obsessive personalities can lead to and create limitless success. Given the wrong circumstances, cataclysmic self-destruction.
Anyway, at some point he got back on his feet and moved into his own place. While completely conquering his coke addiction, he managed to get addicted to painkillers. The amount of pills he would take was fuckin' unbelievable, I can't even comprehend how he managed to work. With that said, he was incredibly, incredibly talented. He used that aforementioned focus and applied it to his work to produce amazing results. He eventually kicked the painkiller issue but then became addicted to the drug used to rid the prior habit..... ''Transference of one addiction to another, you haven't solved a thing. All you've done is change the game you've been playing'' ~ Thought Riot.....He was completely overwhelmed by a river of endless compulsions.
In time we would come to drift apart. I was working somewhere else and he eventually did the family thing, had a couple children, one of which is only a year old now. I saw him for the first time in a couple years this past July, and he looked stressed, he looked troubled. We chatted for a bit and then I gave him my number and told him to call if he needs anything. I made a point to repeat that several times because it was apparent that he had some things going on. He wasn't really the type to open up and kept a lot behind closed doors.
In talking with his girl, he apparently had been drinking a bottle of liquor a night for the last two years. About a month ago he began to try and ease off by drinking Smirnoff's and Four Loko's. She said he would drink 4 or more Four Loko's a night sometimes. I then asked her if she realized how bad those things were for you and she had no idea. She had no clue there was even caffiene in those drinks. Knowing him he was probably drinking them like they were Bud Lights. He had stomach pains Monday and by Thursday morning his organs just started shutting down.
What saddens me and what brought tears to my eyes was the thought of how he went out. He had built such a tolerance from the years of abuse that no painkiller would quell the pain. I guess he was convulsing and hyperventilating from the pain. As horrible as the physical pain must have been, I deeply fuckin' hope that his last conscious thoughts were not absolute terror. As much..... as much as I wish that, I don't think that's the case. Death is what it is, just as natural as life but facing that reality without at least a certain peace of mind, soul crushing regret perhaps, along with an indescribable level of pain must be one of the worst nightmare's imaginable.
That's that. The service is tomorrow and to make matters worse for his family, his father is days or weeks away from dying of cancer. I wasn't extremely close with his family but we hung out a couple times. I was laying here earlier and thinking of what to say. What do you say to a man who just lost his son and is on the verge of dying himself? Or to a woman who lost her first born and is about to lose her husband. After thinking about it there is nothing to say. There is no possible combination of words and any attempt would be.....I don't know. All you can do is offer a positive energy.
These paragraphs focused largely on his drug use and that's not to completely characterize him as addict but more to emphasize the tragic reality of the inability to control one's compulsions. This has been a bit haunting to write because me and him were very much a like. It's so important to find the key that unlock's the grasp that obsessvie tendencies can place upon you. It's like the mind gets swept away in a current or stream of thought.
When I reflect on his memory, the thoughts won't consist of drug abuse or addictions. They'll be of the brighter times. The brighter times amidst a world of black clouds. He was one of mentors as far as learning the job. When I first started I had no clue. I couldn't hold a screwdriver and a pair of pliers at the same time. I basically broke everything I touched and whenever I would start to get aggreavted and begin to boil he was was quick to lend a hand help put off the explosion. From him I learned the importance of quickness and efficiency. Be fast and be swift but also be thorough. And that philosophy can transcend just about everything.
Him and his girl were the first to get me on a rollercoaster and because of my neck and back that will probably be the last time. They wanted me to go on and I didn't want to look like a pussy so I was like fuck it. Inside I was thinking ''Holy shit, look at the size of that mother fucker''. I think he knew it to because he wanted to sit next to me and he wanted to sit in very front of this fuckin' thing. We went a couple times to the amusement park and they were both very memorable trips.
When they were living with me they had this fucked up cat. Before they lived with me they had their own place and he used to mess with the cat. I'm against that but that's not the point. The point is the cat would get into the cocaine and he would torment the thing. Anyway, the cat flipped shit one night, Stephen King style. I'll try to describe it but you would have had to see it to believe it.
Okay, if memory serves me correctly, we had just smoked, weed that is. LOL @ 'memory' and 'weed' in the same sentence. Anyway, we had just smoked and as I walk into living room or whatever, I see the cat run across the room, jump on the arm of the couch and launch itself through the air and attach itself to his girls arm. All four legs bear hug stlye around her arm, claws sunk in and teeth firmly planted in...her... flesh. She starts screaming and flailing her arm around trying to shake the feline loose. The cat was eventually shaken off but tried to attack her again. The cat chased her through the apartment but fortunately she was able to make it to the bathroom and close the door.
At that point I'm like, ''Dude that cat's gotta go''. He's like ''What I do?'' I'm like, ''Open the window and put it out the fuckin' window''. It was the second floor but there was a front porch. It wasn't like a ten stroy drop or anything. So he manages to grab this thing and toss it out the window while quickly shutting it as well. It's like what the fuck is wrong with that thing. Then all of a sudden the cat starts clawing at the window. When I saying clawing I'm talking about this cat throwing it's paw like Mike Tyson throwing hays on a sucker. This cat looked like it was possessed by a FUCKIN' DEMON.
I'm like, ''Just just shut the blind and maybe it'll calm down''. It did thankfully. We're just looking at each other like damn that was intense. We're sitting there and all of a sudden we hear the sound of metal being struck.....BANG. Now it's like, ''What.....the fuck was that?'' A second later.....BANG.....BANG.....BANG. Off to the side was my bedroom which lead out to the porch, and the fuckin' cat was charging the screen door like a battering ram. The cat, just about caved in the bottom part of the door. It eventually tired itself it out, or concussed itself. The guy that lived in the basement apartment was there as well and he was just like ''WTF?'' He was a cool guy as well. He was into metal and was an extremely talented guitarist. I haven't seen him in years but if do I'll mention that night and he'll be like ''That was one of the most insane things I've ever seen''.
I'm sitting here writing that story and getting all animated, a blast from the past for sure. For a few moments I forgot that I'm going to see this guy in a casket tomorrow. Those are the types of reflections that I'll look back upon. Prior to finding about his death they were a lot of things that I wanted to write about in here but it's hard to transition into that stuff now. Plus I've been sitting here for like four hours and I need to find a stream of the PPV tonight.
I'll say this, this past April I bought a guitar been practicing pretty diligently. It's been one of the more rewarding and enjoyable endeavors I've begun for quite some time. I've really wanted to write about it but now's not the time. Today I was thinking a lot about him and it sparked me to practice a little. Not that I haven't been but I was going to take the day off. When I first started playing a few months ago I compiled my bucket list, as far as songs that I really want to learn. I'll get more into that next time hopefully. These two songs are on that list and tonight they go out to my fallen homie.
I spent four hours today working on this song and made some good progress.....
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This one is coming along good too......
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........Rest in Peace brother
I had planned on writing about this, that and the everything but instead I have to begin on a somber note. An old friend of mine just passed away two days ago, very quickly and suddenly. It's only appropriate to devote some thoughts, words and reflect on it a bit.
We met when I started my previous job about ten years ago now. We worked a ton of hours together, an absurd amount of time. In all honesty it was an unhealthy amount of time and that job contributed to a lot of his issues which utlimately lead him down his broken path. He had a very extreme personality when it came to addictions. When I met him he had a very, very serious cocaine problem. I can't recall how many years it went on for but he would literally do coke all day long at work, all fuckin' day. He made 50k a year but didn't have enough money to take the bus to work.
Probably a year after I started, I was moving into my first apartment and simultaneously he could no longer afford an apartment because of his habits. So him and his girl moved in with me for about year or so until he could get his shit together. At that point he was still blowing lines but not quite as much. I've never done coke, fuckin' thankfully, and I think that influence along with the fact of him being unable to support himself shifted his mindset. Also the fact that he made a shitload of money and nothing to show for it probably weighed on his mind.
At that point we working like 10-12 hour days together, six days a week a lot of the times and then living together. That's a lot of time to be around somebody but we always got along and I think that's because we were a lot a like. I have that same exact personality type except I have a bit more self control and I like to think that he tried to learn from that. Things like diet and exercise were things he saw me adhere to and he worked on incorporating those ideals into his life. Given the right circumstances and focus, those extreme, obsessive personalities can lead to and create limitless success. Given the wrong circumstances, cataclysmic self-destruction.
Anyway, at some point he got back on his feet and moved into his own place. While completely conquering his coke addiction, he managed to get addicted to painkillers. The amount of pills he would take was fuckin' unbelievable, I can't even comprehend how he managed to work. With that said, he was incredibly, incredibly talented. He used that aforementioned focus and applied it to his work to produce amazing results. He eventually kicked the painkiller issue but then became addicted to the drug used to rid the prior habit..... ''Transference of one addiction to another, you haven't solved a thing. All you've done is change the game you've been playing'' ~ Thought Riot.....He was completely overwhelmed by a river of endless compulsions.
In time we would come to drift apart. I was working somewhere else and he eventually did the family thing, had a couple children, one of which is only a year old now. I saw him for the first time in a couple years this past July, and he looked stressed, he looked troubled. We chatted for a bit and then I gave him my number and told him to call if he needs anything. I made a point to repeat that several times because it was apparent that he had some things going on. He wasn't really the type to open up and kept a lot behind closed doors.
In talking with his girl, he apparently had been drinking a bottle of liquor a night for the last two years. About a month ago he began to try and ease off by drinking Smirnoff's and Four Loko's. She said he would drink 4 or more Four Loko's a night sometimes. I then asked her if she realized how bad those things were for you and she had no idea. She had no clue there was even caffiene in those drinks. Knowing him he was probably drinking them like they were Bud Lights. He had stomach pains Monday and by Thursday morning his organs just started shutting down.
What saddens me and what brought tears to my eyes was the thought of how he went out. He had built such a tolerance from the years of abuse that no painkiller would quell the pain. I guess he was convulsing and hyperventilating from the pain. As horrible as the physical pain must have been, I deeply fuckin' hope that his last conscious thoughts were not absolute terror. As much..... as much as I wish that, I don't think that's the case. Death is what it is, just as natural as life but facing that reality without at least a certain peace of mind, soul crushing regret perhaps, along with an indescribable level of pain must be one of the worst nightmare's imaginable.
That's that. The service is tomorrow and to make matters worse for his family, his father is days or weeks away from dying of cancer. I wasn't extremely close with his family but we hung out a couple times. I was laying here earlier and thinking of what to say. What do you say to a man who just lost his son and is on the verge of dying himself? Or to a woman who lost her first born and is about to lose her husband. After thinking about it there is nothing to say. There is no possible combination of words and any attempt would be.....I don't know. All you can do is offer a positive energy.
These paragraphs focused largely on his drug use and that's not to completely characterize him as addict but more to emphasize the tragic reality of the inability to control one's compulsions. This has been a bit haunting to write because me and him were very much a like. It's so important to find the key that unlock's the grasp that obsessvie tendencies can place upon you. It's like the mind gets swept away in a current or stream of thought.
When I reflect on his memory, the thoughts won't consist of drug abuse or addictions. They'll be of the brighter times. The brighter times amidst a world of black clouds. He was one of mentors as far as learning the job. When I first started I had no clue. I couldn't hold a screwdriver and a pair of pliers at the same time. I basically broke everything I touched and whenever I would start to get aggreavted and begin to boil he was was quick to lend a hand help put off the explosion. From him I learned the importance of quickness and efficiency. Be fast and be swift but also be thorough. And that philosophy can transcend just about everything.
Him and his girl were the first to get me on a rollercoaster and because of my neck and back that will probably be the last time. They wanted me to go on and I didn't want to look like a pussy so I was like fuck it. Inside I was thinking ''Holy shit, look at the size of that mother fucker''. I think he knew it to because he wanted to sit next to me and he wanted to sit in very front of this fuckin' thing. We went a couple times to the amusement park and they were both very memorable trips.
When they were living with me they had this fucked up cat. Before they lived with me they had their own place and he used to mess with the cat. I'm against that but that's not the point. The point is the cat would get into the cocaine and he would torment the thing. Anyway, the cat flipped shit one night, Stephen King style. I'll try to describe it but you would have had to see it to believe it.
Okay, if memory serves me correctly, we had just smoked, weed that is. LOL @ 'memory' and 'weed' in the same sentence. Anyway, we had just smoked and as I walk into living room or whatever, I see the cat run across the room, jump on the arm of the couch and launch itself through the air and attach itself to his girls arm. All four legs bear hug stlye around her arm, claws sunk in and teeth firmly planted in...her... flesh. She starts screaming and flailing her arm around trying to shake the feline loose. The cat was eventually shaken off but tried to attack her again. The cat chased her through the apartment but fortunately she was able to make it to the bathroom and close the door.
At that point I'm like, ''Dude that cat's gotta go''. He's like ''What I do?'' I'm like, ''Open the window and put it out the fuckin' window''. It was the second floor but there was a front porch. It wasn't like a ten stroy drop or anything. So he manages to grab this thing and toss it out the window while quickly shutting it as well. It's like what the fuck is wrong with that thing. Then all of a sudden the cat starts clawing at the window. When I saying clawing I'm talking about this cat throwing it's paw like Mike Tyson throwing hays on a sucker. This cat looked like it was possessed by a FUCKIN' DEMON.
I'm like, ''Just just shut the blind and maybe it'll calm down''. It did thankfully. We're just looking at each other like damn that was intense. We're sitting there and all of a sudden we hear the sound of metal being struck.....BANG. Now it's like, ''What.....the fuck was that?'' A second later.....BANG.....BANG.....BANG. Off to the side was my bedroom which lead out to the porch, and the fuckin' cat was charging the screen door like a battering ram. The cat, just about caved in the bottom part of the door. It eventually tired itself it out, or concussed itself. The guy that lived in the basement apartment was there as well and he was just like ''WTF?'' He was a cool guy as well. He was into metal and was an extremely talented guitarist. I haven't seen him in years but if do I'll mention that night and he'll be like ''That was one of the most insane things I've ever seen''.
I'm sitting here writing that story and getting all animated, a blast from the past for sure. For a few moments I forgot that I'm going to see this guy in a casket tomorrow. Those are the types of reflections that I'll look back upon. Prior to finding about his death they were a lot of things that I wanted to write about in here but it's hard to transition into that stuff now. Plus I've been sitting here for like four hours and I need to find a stream of the PPV tonight.
I'll say this, this past April I bought a guitar been practicing pretty diligently. It's been one of the more rewarding and enjoyable endeavors I've begun for quite some time. I've really wanted to write about it but now's not the time. Today I was thinking a lot about him and it sparked me to practice a little. Not that I haven't been but I was going to take the day off. When I first started playing a few months ago I compiled my bucket list, as far as songs that I really want to learn. I'll get more into that next time hopefully. These two songs are on that list and tonight they go out to my fallen homie.
I spent four hours today working on this song and made some good progress.....
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This one is coming along good too......
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........Rest in Peace brother
