We Are All Haunted

There are times when you smell like burning wood. Everyone’s face is glowing and maybe they have a red cup in their hand and it’s perfect even though some of us have tears running down our flushed cheeks. To hear music playing in a crowded dirt basement, to get pushed back into walls and have our toes stepped on, to be absolutely raw; this is our, yours, his utopia.

It’s been a long day and a long few days. If this moment has taught me anything, it’s to always be inspired and never give up on art. How dare I ever complain. I want to hold all of my friends so close.

How fitting for there to be only the light dust of snow and the ring of silence in the air. Rage In Peace, my friend.


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