Some days are harder than other days, and some days are even worse, and then some don’t even need to be called days; just seconds smashing minutes into hours, pushing up the sun then pulling it down. Days that are preceded maybe by a dream of a friend you’ve brought back to life, a friend who tells you “I was just fucking around, just playing a joke” and you all laugh at the absurdity of it because all the sadness and aching in your body escapes in a murmur of “man, I’m so glad it wasn’t real, but how’d you manage to seem dead for two weeks?” then the alarm goes off and the reality that you see through bleary eyes is there, laid out on the chair next to your bed - slate slacks and a black button-up. Your dream wasn’t good enough to really make things okay again, it was a reprieve from the reality that he really is gone with his body somewhere above ground and today’s sole purpose is to locate the body and put it inside the ground while people talk about Jesus and a loss for us but a gain for heaven and you just want to yell goodbye, my brother. And you just want to have a few more inside jokes and a beer or two and show him the band you know he’ll love and that funny video on the internet that only he would find as funny as you, and you remember that you can’t because dreams aren’t reality and reality is here and here is where you are and here is where he isn’t. 

1. ghostsandall said: beautiful. I’m sorry.
2. ghostsandall liked this
3. justconnor reblogged this from johnyadollahi and added:

   mike f, jesse l, mikey q,...luis b. still can’t accept...all...

4. danikroll reblogged this from johnyadollahi and added:

   Beautiful, John.

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