Today is a stinger. Tappin my heart and pointing to to the sky. Hoping my internal voice is loud enough for you to hear. Praying the message is received. I hope your rest is sound my friend. I miss your ear. God, if you are there carry me to his side. Guide me by what i was taught. Lead me from his example. For in my friend i found beauty. I may not spell perfect and I may not type to perfection but in my friends presense i felt at home, and i miss that. Hear me Brad wherever you are, your message was received. God send me forth as the champion that has fallen.

I have this continuing need to do something. Everyday I must do something related to Brad. I do see that I go out of my way to prevent my wound from healing, I will admit it. I do not want to get better, I actually am afraid of getting better. Figure that one out.

The other day I was in the subway and saw a man jump in front of the train to kill himself. He was just an average looking man... nothing outrageous or outstanding. He must have been standing 10-15 ft from me. And he was just waiting for the train with all the other after work commuters but he was waiting for a different reason. I remember looking over and seeing him and not really thinking anything about him. Now I have passing thoughts hinking if I had looked closer and seen some sort of sadness of hurt in his eyes or in his face maybe I could have helped him.

All Is Well

I was eating dinner with Melissa the other day and was having a mighty strong drink. I looked at her and said, “Drinking is not the same as it used to be. I feel so melancholy.” I’m sure you all know how, when you just want to make a statement, sometimes making the statement flips a switch on your emotions. Like when I just want to tell someone, “My mom walked in the room and, when she saw him, she felt peace.” I can be in complete control of my emotions, yet saying those words to someone can well up my eyes. So, I said to Melissa that drinking had changed and, as soon as I said I fe

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.

Hey Man,

I sent my dog Roxy your way last night Brad,

she likes company so watch for her.

More goodbyes