Composing My Own Eulogy

34. Inland Northwest🏞 Building a new life on top of the ashes of my old existence.

[delta--9]

In Harmony With Mother Nature🌲🍃✌

[givememtnspls]

Alaska

[isakrueger]

[ballwizard]

meows loud as fuck shattering all glass within 3 miles no survivors

[heraclesw-deactivated20220825]

[photobirb]

x

[deerinfear]

[angel0fdisease]

photos from work that make me like my job sometimes

[vinter-skugga]

[malicebody]

a soldier in vietnam shotgunning cannabis from the barrel of a gun

[zer0zleep]

[fromthegallows]

movements    feel something vinyl

[an-angel-and-a-dog]

[vvyxn]

Citizen- Sleep

[05827292fjsksjsmmk975zxaswqgh22]

i mostly am interested in finding peace

[incognito-melancholia]

[delta--9]

You've been gone 2 years already and it seems like just yesterday morning I got the news of your death, I can still feel the sharp pain of your absence aching deep inside my chest, your loss is more than I can physically tolerate on any given day so I try and remind myself of all the fond memories we shared together instead, but most the time my heart just can't disconnect from my head and I dwell on it endlessly for days and then start feeling like I'm partially to blame, having survivor's guilt because I know it could have just as easily been me laying alone, cold, pale and motionless on that floor, just as your dad found you that warm summer day when he opened the halfway house door. I think part of me will always blame myself, looking back and feeling like there were certain instances when I could have done something or offered more than just help, but I know that we can't change fate, you're gone too early and I feel stuck here too late. These will always be some of the thoughts that I can't seem to shake while I lay alone in bed too late or I'm just trying to go about my day, July 17th will always be a date that I hate and can't come to terms with or physically tolerate.

KLS - March 6th 1997 ~ July 17th 2021

[delta--9]

Tomorrow will be 5 years since you left, and I still can't accept your death.