(no subject)
It all happened as I was walking to the bathroom, getting ready to shave when I heard the name Hunter S. Thompson over the television.
I stopped what I was doing, and I went into the living room. After the news report, I went into my room, lit a cigarette, and smoked and stared at the floor. The words Self-Inflicted Gunshot Wound.
Jesus Christ, why? Like Hemmingway? Cobain?
Nothing I would ever expect from someone that would be the self-proclamed Champion of Fear. I'm not saddened, not hurt. Just blank. My longtime idol, long gone.
Hunter Stockton Thompson, you will be missed.
And I'll make sure to bring a copy of Let it Bleed when I meet you.
I stopped what I was doing, and I went into the living room. After the news report, I went into my room, lit a cigarette, and smoked and stared at the floor. The words Self-Inflicted Gunshot Wound.
Jesus Christ, why? Like Hemmingway? Cobain?
Nothing I would ever expect from someone that would be the self-proclamed Champion of Fear. I'm not saddened, not hurt. Just blank. My longtime idol, long gone.
Hunter Stockton Thompson, you will be missed.
And I'll make sure to bring a copy of Let it Bleed when I meet you.