When you killed yourself it was as if you said your time here is done without giving me a chance to weigh in. If you’re dead, is Eddie Money dead? (He is.) Is your white Firebird Trans AM with the Catfish license plate dead? (It is.) Is Kid Rock a transphobic dick? (He is.) Is Aerosmith done touring? (I think I read that headline today) but look.
You can’t just be done when those things are done. That’s bullshit and you owe us more than that. Maybe not me, because I was a shit near the end, which I know. I want to visit your grave, your parents, but that’s up to them. It’s not up to us how time moves on but you made it up to you and that was unfair and also extremely fair because it’s up to you how you do you but still GODDAMIT.
I mailed your mother a crystal. I’m not sure what she thought about that. I miss you, you piece of shit.
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