"...there is always a choice..."

[despair57]

Yesterday, I started thinking about Mitchell. He had firm beliefs, and he didn't back down because of what reprecussions might follow. Now he's dead. None of us expected it, but it seems like we've forgotten. I didn't know him as well as I would have liked. On the other hand, everyone who knew him wishes they could have known him better.

Comments

[scotty_lamppost]

His passing was one of the weirdest things there was. I grew up with him, to an extent. I was that kid that was a year older than me, but still talked to me, helped me, and guided me. That means a lot when everyone is always calling you faggot and metaphorically shitting on you. Not to say I thought he was invincible, but I guess I just never really gave much thought to who wouldn't make it. He was a good guy, and without him, my life would be radically different. Hell, I may have killed myself if it weren't for some of the things he'd done for me in elementary school. I didn't know him by the time he was punk. I acually think that the last time I talked to him was once before I was in Jefferson, and I asked what that scary switch to middle school is like. I wonder why that memory had to stick. For whatever reason, it did, just like him coming to one of my birthday parties. He was an incredible person, so full of positivity (in ways) that it seems almost overwhelming. My biggest regret regarding him? That I didn't know him better, that I didn't know him well enough to feel the real impact his passing left with the rest. Because without his influence on my earlier life, I don't know just what the fuck I'd be.