I still miss you, man. My head hurts today. My head and my joints.
I couldn’t stop the crying this morning. I got dressed and got in the car to go to work and was crying so hysterically I came in and undressed and went back to bed. I didn’t make it to work. It’s hard to explain why he meant so much to me to them. I haven’t even told you why he meant so much to me. And no, we never got down like that. He was a friend, not a lover.
I’ll tell you one thing he did. Once, I called him when I was suicidal, about ten years ago. Maybe eleven. That’s part of my story, feeling that way. Going to that place. And he said that we would hang out until I didn’t feel that way anymore. So about four of us stayed together for about five hours until three o’clock in the morning and I was feeling stable enough to be alone. Staying up drinking cheap coffeeshop coffee, chain-smoking, playing cards, and talking. He kept me out of danger back then.
Yesterday, I realized I didn’t have any physical object to attach to my friend. I own nothing that belonged to him. (Wait, I might have a copy of Requiem for a Dream that I never read somewhere that I borrowed and never returned. He was a voracious reader, my friend was. More texture.) All of my photos of him are at my mother’s house, two hours away. I need to get them, but that means facing my mother whilst I’m still raw. So I went and bought a hoodie today to at least remember the sucky time in my life that is now. I have one from another rough time in my life, the time when someone recently stopped speaking to me, and it helps. It ties me back to this someone.
I went to Upper Playground today and got one with bees with skulls for heads today. It’s called the Bee Team hoodie. The kid in the store must have thought I looked miserable–kid, I’m getting to the point where I’m older than the people who work in boutiques and their ilk. I was all business. I had looked at them online before, and I was pretty sure this was the one I wanted. I knew what size I was. I wanted to get to yoga on time. I was in and out in about seven minutes.
So now when I wear my new hoodie, I’ll think of him. It has a wonderful skull-patterned lining. Click on the hoodie to go to the site and see more pictures of it. If you give a goddamn about my new hoodie.
Skulls are one of my symbols. So are bees. I’m always thinking on death. Can’t help it. Shadow-sided. It’s just how I’m fashioned. Ever since my head broke, it’s more death than life in there. And I try so hard to be a worker among workers, instead of a star. Try to humbly do my part, like a little bee. I still want to be famous, just like Prophet Steven. Only he is, and I’m not. I just haven’t earned it yet, baby. I should give up the ghost. It lives on, though.
Anyhow. This hoodie, it combines both the skull and the bee. Excellent.
I miss you, man. Knucklehead. Why did you have to leave? Fucking bullshit.