My days going by.
He’d like Dana and I to take care of each other.
He’d like me to draw him a picture so he can enjoy my talent one last time.
He said I should get started because it’ll only be a few months.
He told me not to let the sadness consume me.
All he ever wanted was for me to be happy. Happy like he was all of his life.
He trudged through so much shit but always had the best time he could.
He said he want’s me to help people in any way I can.
If it’s not people, then anything in need.
Because that’s how it should be.
He wants me to be the good part in this world.
By: Neil Hilborn
"Here is a list of things my brain has told me to do. Join a cult. Start a cult. Become a cabinet maker. Kill myself! So in essence, become a cabinet maker. Break into and then paint other people’s houses. Have sex with literally everyone who reminds me of my mother. Fight people who are much… fight-ier than me… Like the cops! So in essence, kill myself. I think a lot about killing myself, not quite like a point on a map but more like a glowing exit sign at a show that’s never been quite bad enough to make me want to leave. See, when I’m up, I don’t kill myself because holy shit!There’s so much left to do! And when I’m down I don’t kill myself because then the sadness would be over, and the sadness is my old paint under the new. I would still be me without it, but I’d be so boring.”
(…) I saw the future, I did. And in it, I was alive. My god, I was alive.