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I didnt get angry. I didnt get hurt.

Oh, what a difference two years can make.

The old me wouldve been different.

Incensed. Wanting to hurt. Wanting to kill.

Instead, I felt nothing but mild confusion.

Some may say Im over-medicated.

That Im supposed to feel when things happen.

I call their bluff. I need this shit.

I dont care if I'm numb.

I dont care if I sleep my life away.

Yet somehow its been more worth living since he died.

I wonder why that is. He was my everything.

Guidepost. Supporter. Fan. Detractor.

I must make things right. Live. Breathe.

As much as possible in this straitjacket anyway.

I wonder if he'll do it again. Why hes so angry.

Why he picked me.

Im not special. Im just a regular dude.

Yet terrible and wonderful things transpire around me.

People die. People scream. People dance. People love.

I wonder if I'm blathering.

Come back! Ive more to tell.

But youre gone, swearing never to return.

Oh well. No remorse. No regrets.

Take no prisoners.

Set them free.

Free forever in the afterlife.

I hope one exists.

I sleep enough as it is.