Anyway, things are hard sometimes and I don’t believe in pretending. I also don’t like trauma-dumping on the internet.

The futility, powerlessness, and absurdity of it all is really tough to reconcile. In literature, there are no meaningless deaths. In reality, we all die sometime and often our death is random. I think the trick is ascribing value to it. Choosing to learn and grow. Knowing there is more than this life is comforting in the long run, but right now there is just loss and injustice

I just attended my high school best friend’s funeral. He left a wife and two kids. He ran the teeball league for the county. Completely out of the blue he had a thing with his aorta and he’s just gone now. I freaking hate death. I’ve never dealt with it well. I believe in the afterlife. I believe in God. But I also really struggle with the idea that a person can spend their life learning and growing, mastering skills, building relationships, becoming an incredible person, and then it just stops.