Anthony had a Nintendo 64. First in the neighborhood, probably. He loved darth Vader honesty. He decided at 8 he would definitely grow up to be president.

He died at 20, I think? Maybe 18, maybe 22. Bad heart, maybe. Or bad luck. I know he didn’t always have to do gym, while I panicked and stressed about locker rooms and score points and being picked last.

I used to wish I could be him. Or be like him. He died though, and I’m still here. Should I be? Would, had we swapped places somewhere years ago, anthony be preparing for his presidential run?

We stopped being friends at some point in highschool. I don’t think it was malicious – we just drifted apart.

I saw his mom years later while I was working at a supermarket. A year or so after the funeral, which I didn’t attend because I was so anxious about the crowds and the different social circle. I think I was also terrified about the idea of death at 16, but I didn’t realize it then.

When I saw her I completely froze. I had no idea what to do or say. It’s so strange even now to me. I don’t think I’m scared of death, but I guess I don’t want to be close to it? I’m ok with rotting in the grave, but I don’t want it for anyone around me.

I never know what to say when someone dies. I’m sorry? that doesn’t cut it. This person who meant the world to you but I never met will be in my thoughts? I can’t even remember their name and it’s been 5 minutes. I don’t know. Maybe I’m shallow or selfish. Or maybe we all feel this way.

Anyway, I guess the point is I’m sorry anthony died, and I wish I could have seen what he would have been up to today. Maybe it would have been something spectacular. Maybe he would have also been stress blogging at 3am wondering when the fuck the merry-go-round stops.

It’s spring again. I planted some flowers that I thought looked pretty and some iceberg and escarole, because I feel like I’ll want to eat sometime this summer.

I feel like I’m overflowing, which is pretty much the only time I write here. It’s good to have an outlet.

I went to a party last night for the first time in like 2 years. I took quarantine seriously, I used to eat at restaurants multiple times a week and now I only get take out from my very, very favorites.

Anyway, I missed parties so fucking much. I missed connections lasting a few moments and dumb shots and stupid jokes and jackbox and promises of Mariocart and oh fuck how I missed laying on the floor at 3AM with old friends and new friends and talking about Brazilian jujitsu and naked golds and 90s music and not for even a second talking about the bullshit of 2020

I’m so very thankful I got my first dose of the vaccine. I don’t care, I guess, about how shady it might be and I’m still pissed about how awful big pharma is and fuck our dumb fake leaders for pretending to care About this well they clearly don’t

I keep wearing my mask. I keep limiting my socials. God damn I’m in introvert but it was too long for even me. I was so god dammed happy to see my “fair-weather friends” and just relax and enjoy humanity and have dumb conversations and hear about your job and ask you if you tried the snacks.

God damn I missed it so much. I still do. I want to cry so badly, my emotions are overflowing but I still struggle with letting them out.

I’ve been trying to think recently about all my accomplishments throughout the last year that was absolutely less than even a little normal. I feel like I’ve done so much – see below:

My garden actually produces food I can feed myself and my chris and my family and my friends with.

I challenged myself and learned how to brew beer and ferment food and raise bread and how to use chemical interactions and time to show the people important to me how much I love them.

I raised a dog and focused on my internal struggle and faced my demons and Even if I’m still fighting them I now understand them better and I’m pretty sure some cartoon dog told me that “knowing if half the battle”.

I’m still sad a lot. I’m absolutely mad too much, but I’m learning how to embrace my emotions and use them for positivity.

Anyway this is probably way to much and way too unimportant but like I wrote about earlier I weirdly spend too much time thinking about how a fictional fantasy future is thinking about me. I don’t expect to be important or famous or special, but I feel like this stupid blog is a stupid treasure at the end of some vague quest for a future leaf on the family tree to discover and embrace and go fully help them better understand how I wasn’t any less fucked than any of them regardless of what my legacy is.

A

Hi! My name is John. This is my blog. There’s no direction yet. My plan is to attempt to capture something I’m missing in the world around me by writing down my thoughts . I’ll be writing a bit about Social Media, Politics, Art, Baking, Gardening, Tabletop Gaming, and whatever else I think of.

Please feel free to drop a line if you enjoy what I’m writing. Maybe I’ll write more of it!