- Mon Jul 13, 2020 12:56 am
After 10 years, I just finished the bottle of Wild Turkey that me and some homeboys of Ryan’s poured out for him just upstream of Buffalo Bridge on the evening of the day he killed hisself.
It wasn’t his favorite bourbon, but it was mine and he was dead, so fuck him... right?
At 10 years past, I think I’m at the point where I currently believe that cowardice shouldn’t be revered but I suppose that lives should be celebrated. Who knows - those two don’t necessarily compliment one another. Miss the guy like a brother, but you ain’t never going to change the fact that poor decisions lead to poor outcomes. His son was the true travesty in all of this. The example he set - that the easy way out is an option - is just a piss-poor example to set. Simple as that.
Maybe it’s a fault of mine, but I find myself just caring less about the people who’ve gone through shit like this. This world is full of people who fight and struggle to survive and love and thrive and give back everyday. There’s no doubt that my perception of life is changing with the way the world is right now, but I just can’t find the time or the empathy in my soul to really care about the quitters and the complainers and the losers. Do people really, truly believe that it is that much harder for them than it is for their neighbors? You’re just the person who can’t cope with the struggle. Don’t be that guy, don’t use the mental health excuses that have become all too convenient, don’t be the quitter when it gets harder today than it was yesterday. Nobody is saying that it’s easy, but it clearly isn’t supposed to be. Ryan would still be alive today if he adopted the mindset that “Yeah, life wis hard“... but it was probably harder for the old widow living across the street or the family of 5 with barely enough food and anything he could do to brighten their days and make their lives better would help ease his struggles. But, woe is me. When you’re own self-pity consumes you and every thought is a selfish one and you think that you have it harder than everyone else, this is what you get - A fucking cold grave and a bunch of strangers tipping meaningless glasses of shitty booze to your memory.
Fuck self-pity, fuck depression, and fuck excuses. Work is work, whether it’s physical or on your mind, and there is no substitute on this good green Earth for putting forth an honest effort. Make life better for your family, for your neighbors, for your friends, and for strangers... and it can only get better for you. If you choose not to make that effort, I don’t see a single fucking reason why anyone should waste an ounce of time on it other than to make an example of exactly how not to go about living a good life.
"Do you think it is real? I bet it is hard and soft, like hard muscle but really smooth skin. I bet it is real nice." - midstream