This makes me laugh and cry thinking about what Brad would have sported to this event he surely would have attended

4th annual bike messenger prom
Bottom Lounge, 1375 W Lake St 312-666-6775
THE RACE IS THE MAIN EVENT OF THIS WEEKENDS NORTH AMERICAN CYCLE COURIER CHAMPIONSHIP. HOWEVER, THE WACKY PROM - DURING WHICH MESSENGERS SPORT THEIR FINEST VINTAGE TUXES, DRESSES, AND THE OCCASIONAL BANANA COSTUME - IS WITHOUT A DOUBT THE PABST- FUELED SOCIAL APEX. 8PM - 2AM, $15.

Each passing day sucks. I despise the passing of each day. I can't stand the thought of each day that goes by, puts me farther away from my life with him. The life when I had my brother, my mother had her son. I don't like this distance, not at all. I all out sobbed today when I saw the corner of the picture I keep in my truck was curling. The marks that time is leaving. The dust that was on the keys of his computer. The idea that there will be no more phonecalls, no more crude comments, no more visits, no more anything. Just tears. I miss you so much, I cannot stand it. I will find a way to talk to you, I love you little brother, I always did, I pray you knew.

Kris, less one

Hey Man,

I sent my dog Roxy your way last night Brad,

she likes company so watch for her.

More goodbyes

The last time I was with Brad, we went out for breakfast at a ma n' pops restaurant. It was a really cold morning-both of us were bundled up in sweaters, jackets-even Brad was wearing pants(!) Our waiter on the other hand, was quite the contrary...he was sporting these ridiculously short shorts. Every time he would pass us by, Brad would say "He's wearing short shorts!" over and over and over again, making me laugh.

I miss him so.

Memory is a fucked up thing. You are already slipping away. Our time time together has been reduced to a few moments. Shooting blow darts into your neighbors apartment. Eating acid and standing by a highway. Watching juniors dog play in the water on great mushrooms. Yelling bitchass at random yuppies in seattle. These are things that mean nothing to the general populace but to me they are special times and i am losing them. I want to hold onto you and all that you meant to me. Yet you are fading. What have I forgotten? Calling the hobbit shitter at large. Letting you take a punch from some redneck when you clearly deserved it...you loudmouth motherfucker. Sorry homey when you pull a knife on me threaten to kill me and then  proceed to start a fight with a redneck twice your size (i am 165 lbs. at the time) your on your own. I will say i felt bad about your black eye but I also noticed you got alot quieter after that night (a good thing). I need a moment like this to re-calibrate. to re-affix you into my story. Tommorow starts without you, yet yestereday was created with you. I fear that I am not the messenger to convey all that was Brad.

Last week or the week before I was up pretty late feeling depressed and went on a writing tangent.

The next day or so I felt depressed again and decided to put what I had wrote on here. Well blast it all someone was mad at me that day because after writing an extremely lonnngg blog including a few poems I wrote I went to click preview and my internet connection glitched and erased everything I had written.

So tonight, feeling especially down and stressed dealing with packing and whatnot I decide I'm finally feeling up to rewriting that blog.

Mother effer.... the notebook I wrote the poems in are already packed away... grrrrrrrrrrrrr. I could have sworn I left it out. ugh I quit.

Last week, I was driving down River de Peres and I looked to my left and saw your apartment building. The lights were on. I immidiately was reassured that you were home. It really creeped me out. I even thought about visiting your house. I wanted to tell you how much I missed you and how sorry I am for the way things ended between us. I figured you'd invite me in, we'd share a few laughs and all would be well.

I was under such a spell.

The shitty thing is; you aren't going to hear this. I have to figure all this out myself. I realised that soon after. But for some reason I have to keep re-reminding myself. It gets so old and tiresome. So, instead I went home and I cried.

I've been listening to a lot of Tom Waits lately. Can't help but think of you. I know how much you liked him.

The Ocean Doesn't Want Me Today

By Tom Waits