What happens when the story is over? The fictional one at least. The living ones, the people who inspired the narrative…the ones still with us. They’re still trying to figure it out. A few people have asked me, is there a Nothing to Get Nostalgic About 2? No. There isn’t. In the world I created, I left it up to the readers to determine what becomes of those who survived it. In real life? The one’s who survived it? We’re still trying to figure it out.
I have been without a phone since nine in the morning (I dropped it in the toilet accidentally last night, then got mad and threw it and subsequently REALLY ruined it after growing frustrated with it) and all I am left with are my thoughts and a lot of throwback radio. When did we collectively decide that the only music worth hearing had to be twenty, thirty years behind us? Eddie Van Halen is dead, but it feels like people buried more than an innovative virtuoso. The radio made me so depressed today, its like the only good thing is still behind us. What a shitty narrative for this pandemic. Everyone is still searching for what was before it, no one can even fathom a future after it. I am so sick of feeling like the best things about life are behind me. I can’t blame anyone, I guess that’s just how this administration and its cult have propagated the idea of a better future. Before I lost my phone? I was having amazing texts with people I barely knew and loved my whole life about what a gift time is. I am not ready to give up. I still think are best days are ahead of us, I must. I have two gorgeous boys who are helping me grow up and figure this stuff out. I am a week away from talking to myself or a very modest few who want to hear me talk via ZOOM about this story. I tried to kill myself a lot. After every attempt, I woke up wondering what was stopping me from just doing me in. I became angrier and angrier, why the fuck can’t I just die? I have nothing keeping me here. Now I have Dylan and Ryder. The world has to keep evolving and I have to keep getting better for them…they deserve it. Why do they deserve to have everything that was robbed from me? Because when I get manic, upset, frustrated, furious, and work myself into a frenzy, they still love me after. They aren’t afraid of me or my illness, in fact my oldest so much empathy today it is still making me cry. “Dada, please don’t get so angry that you feel that way again.” This was after I beat up a laundry basket and ruined my phone. “Dada, it’s okay.” How does he know to talk like that? Please do not ruin inanimate objects you need and have a headache dealing with later? The poor kid was trying to poop and I went nuts on my phone. I hate feeling like I have no control over my life. I hate feeling so helpless and so useless. I hate even more that I was so furious with my phone because it’s the only thing that makes me feel less lonely than I do every day. I hate that with two gorgeous little boys and a wife…I still need to feel less lonely. When am I going to stop feeling like that lonely little kid? When am I going to let go of the anger of being that kid? I love my children so much; I don’t want them to see me so lonely or afraid. When is the past going to stop hurting all the time? I don’t want to live in a world of throwback channels, I want to watch them grow up and embrace their new culture and sound. Today wasn’t about my phone. The radio. I am scared that what happened to me as a kid is always going to obscure what they do. I know it won’t, I am still afraid it might. I am excited for the future because of them. They deserve it. When the fuck am I just going to stop hurting that I didn’t get the future I hope like hell they know they deserve?
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September 2021
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