::
2019 28 April :: 12.19 am
:: Mood: bored
:: Music: "Running Down to Cuba"
At the in-law's whilst they plan funeral services for my father-in-law. He was the magnanimous old man who kept the familial machine running.
To be completely frank, I feel cast adrift without him, but optimistic in the sense that, like my maternal grandfather before him, I'll be forced to develop further as an adult without having the luxury of a wise elder holding my hand. I can reasonably assume, dear reader, that you're acquainted with death and the complexity of its aftermath in regards to the living.
The hour grows late, and I had initially plonked my ass down at the computer to relay ponderous rambles and pompous declarations of insight, as is my wont, but I just don't have it in me. Trust that things are fine, they'll turn out alright if they aren't already, and that capitulation is frowned upon.
Another thing - this journal is now more than 15 years old.
Think about all the asinine shit I've posted and deleted over the years, and live by the example I've set and subsequently covered up - don't do drugs, stay in school if you're pursuing something worth your time, don't start fights, and on occasion, suffer an idiot.
