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It's not great, Mike.

Hi. So, this is just bullshit. I can't keep doing this. Maybe it's because I'm immature or unable to cope with reality, or whatever, but fuck this bullshit of people dying, especially when they seem to be finally pulling their shit together (I'm definitely not talking about you, obviously, though maybe, sorta?). So, there I was mindlessly flipping through fb on my phone at the dogpark because the pup was doing her dogyy thing, and I was seeing all these posts about Bircho, and I didn't read them, I just noticed they were people posting old pictures, and saying nice things and tagging him. I suppose I blew it off thinking it was his birthday or something. Flash forward 5 hours and I dip into the fucking kool-aid again, and there it was: fucking Bircho died in his sleep last night. Heart attack maybe? Not clear yet. But still. It's some full-on bullshit. Our generation is small and getting smaller by the goddamn minute. I'm not gonna lie Mike, this is horrible. Granted, he's not in my day-to-day life, right? But he and I connected, and then reconnected, after I found out that his crazy psychic wife that he married to soon was pals with Kyle's crazy replacement for me. He went to Bircho's wedding. Or something like that. But it was right after Kyle got back in touch with me, and I was immediately struck, and hit him up on fb, and he called me! We talked for a good hour, catching up, and commiserating. He told me to be careful. He was that sweet, lovable drummer that I had crushed on ever so briefly in DC. So much so that I for a long time used his nom de plume as a password. I loved Trusty so much, and easily 90% of it was him. Then, we'd trade love and likes online, and it was nice. I felt like another circle had completed and that being an old punk rocker was gonna be ok. He was the second person to reach out after Rob when you died. "Tears are flowing in Little Rock" was his post. After "Fuck" of course. He was a goddamn gem of a person. Made all the mistakes we all did, and survived. Rebuilt and recreated himself, had been sober 5 years (that's probably what fucked his heart up). At least he went quick and in his sleep, but damn, his kid who is like 12 now? He loved that kid so damn much. Agh. I dunno what to do with losing people like this anymore. My world just keeps shrinking. Certainly, the internet means I know about someone I would have never been in touch with again, much less have known if he died, but still. This is some fucked up shit, and if any more of you bastards leave this planet without me? It's just, the world really sucks right now, and it's not just depressing, it's tragic and not funny. Charles lost his mind and was in the hospital last night with heart troubles, panic attacks. Meanwhile, Lia was high in a motel in Palm Springs. The streets of seattle are as empty as they were when I returned in '94, but for all the wrong reasons. At least I think they are the wrong reasons. It might turn out ok, like it did in the late '90s, but for how long again? Until I get happy and thin and find out I have cancer again? Or something? What the fuck will tomorrow bring? Such total horseshit.

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