Kill Your Heroes

It seems like I’m always there with advice and comfort for everyone else, but never the other way.

Maybe I should learn to ask for help.

But I’ll probably just stick with suffering in silence.

Fuck. Off. Dude.

You think you are owed something?

Wrong.

So. Fucking. Wrong. 

You think I did you fucking dirty. You were just too hung up.

I tried to tell you.

Tried to warn you.

You didn’t listen.

Not my fault.

Ok, maybe a little my fault.

Don’t act like it’s all me thought.

Your’e an adult

Supposedly more than me.

Wrong.

You’re wrong.

I am far more intuitive than you.

You are mistaken.

This doesn’t matter. you will never read this. You will never read this. It will continue to be meaningless. i will continue to look like a crazy person. 

Oh well.

You’re going to get punched in the jugular vein.

Yep. Just deleted everything I typed to not offend someone who doesn’t even read this shit. 

What bullshit.

That means something, right?

I respect you as a person, even if I don’t wan to date you.

Shit.

He was my role model, friend, teacher, and the closest thing I ever had to a father figure in high school. 

I don’t believe these allegations. Something isn’t being said. 

I want to cry and throw up and kick and scream. 

It’s not fair.

They’re making a mistake.

They’re losing a remarkably influential, amazing teacher. They will never find anyone who will live up to his standard. He made that band program what it is. Years of sacrifice just to be forced to retire to save himself from being fired. 

I weep for the future of the Ben Davis Band department.

And for the loss of such an amazing teacher and friend to that organization.