(no subject)
And old buddy of mine from school (haven't really talked to him in a while though), Anthony Maserelli, died in his sleep yesterday morning from a sleeping pill and alcohol overdose. He was 23.
Which brings me quickly to my point:
-Get busy living, or get busy dying.
23 fucking years old. Something seems wrong about someone that young dying.
I think the weirdest part about death is the realization and acknowledgement that you are never going to see that person again.
A lot of people thought he was a nobody. A loser. But my friend Irene dated him for years. They were set on getting married. Then they broke up. But now, someone has to tell Irene that her first big romance is dead.
Which brings me to another point:
- Even if the whole world thinks you are a nobody, you are always someone to somebody. Someone will be impacted by you. Your existance means something to at least one person in your life. So never think that you are truly a nobody. No one is a nobody.
Anthony died over something so stupid. He planned on changing his life around - moved back in with his mom, said he wanted to stop doing drugs. And then, boom - he's gone.
So on that note, anytime someone tells me to go to college, or get a better (see: desk) job, or that I *will get married and have children - you all don't know anything. Those things aren't living. That's not freedom. I don't want to die at 76 years old with great-grandkids and a broken marriage and a colostomy bag. I don't want to be on my death bed knowing that I never truly went through with pursuing my dream, and that when I had my chance, I took other people's advice and let it all get in the way of what I really wanted - no, needed - to be doing. I want to live my dream. I want to be free. And I want to die - at any age - knowing that I did all I could to make it a reality. I don't want to feel like I missed out on living.
This entry is far too long. But I needed to say it all.
So, anyone who will be at the Webster tonight to see us play, I can't wait to see you all there. Stand in front. I'll be throwing guitar picks. We go on at 10:15.
Which brings me quickly to my point:
-Get busy living, or get busy dying.
23 fucking years old. Something seems wrong about someone that young dying.
I think the weirdest part about death is the realization and acknowledgement that you are never going to see that person again.
A lot of people thought he was a nobody. A loser. But my friend Irene dated him for years. They were set on getting married. Then they broke up. But now, someone has to tell Irene that her first big romance is dead.
Which brings me to another point:
- Even if the whole world thinks you are a nobody, you are always someone to somebody. Someone will be impacted by you. Your existance means something to at least one person in your life. So never think that you are truly a nobody. No one is a nobody.
Anthony died over something so stupid. He planned on changing his life around - moved back in with his mom, said he wanted to stop doing drugs. And then, boom - he's gone.
So on that note, anytime someone tells me to go to college, or get a better (see: desk) job, or that I *will get married and have children - you all don't know anything. Those things aren't living. That's not freedom. I don't want to die at 76 years old with great-grandkids and a broken marriage and a colostomy bag. I don't want to be on my death bed knowing that I never truly went through with pursuing my dream, and that when I had my chance, I took other people's advice and let it all get in the way of what I really wanted - no, needed - to be doing. I want to live my dream. I want to be free. And I want to die - at any age - knowing that I did all I could to make it a reality. I don't want to feel like I missed out on living.
This entry is far too long. But I needed to say it all.
So, anyone who will be at the Webster tonight to see us play, I can't wait to see you all there. Stand in front. I'll be throwing guitar picks. We go on at 10:15.