To John

Life is harder than you thought. Shit’s hit the fan on multiple occasions. You’ve almost let it affect your character, and to be honest, on some occasions it has. The drinking, weed, it’s all to drown out any form of feeling.

But what about the good ones?

What about the feelings that bring you so much joy? Why drown those? What about the feelings of togetherness and friendship, the people who value you for you? What about them? Why lose pieces of yourself in a bottle, pill, or bong? It takes pieces of you, all of which may or may not return.

They call me.

The peace. The quiet. The lack of feeling. All of it. A refuge in a fucked up world. But why view the world as fucked? Granted, a lot of it is. But what about the rest?

What about the trees slowly reviving their leaves for another cycle? What about the flowers blooming in freshly planted fields?

I imagine picnics in fields of grain with the people I love. I imagine sculptures of us sitting there, a testament of our love and commitment to each other standing the test of time in a far away museum. I imagine the trees of my childhood home forming new saplings when my kids are born. The cycle of my lifetime with so much possibility.

I set down the bottle. Holy shit. What am I doing? I have so much to live for. And if not, nature is more than enough. To the mountains, I will see you soon. I can’t wait to meet again. You lift me above the clouds and reveal the majesty of creation. I enjoy watching the trees thin as I bring one foot in front of the other. The air becomes more difficult to breathe, the challenge only adding to this foreign land ready for me to explore. Not in my mind, not in a pre-roll, but in front of my eyes.

I will see you soon. And until then, you will be like RFK's worm in my mind.