d20

well, i thought i was doing quite alright, but when you put things together i guess i'm a big fat problem avoider. you know you're hiding something when a metallica cover comes up on your playlist and it somehow seems really meaningful all of a sudden. as much as i respect james hetfield, i wouldn't really consider him the most evocative lyricist.

so, to the point: my friend chris died and i'm having trouble with it. it's not a break down and cry like a child kind of death... he went out of bounds on the hill, a search crew found him not long ago. he was a goddamn good rider - he knew full well that when you cross the boundary line and fuck up there's no patrollers or even other riders to save your ass. my dad's old ski patrol jacket is on my bed behind me and i can hear him now... since i want comfort i picture him giving me one of many lectures on riding safely. the unfortunate part is that i know exactly what he'd actually be saying, and i know what he'll say when i tell him what happened. he won't say a thing about safety, or where the fuck chris thought he was going without a buddy. he won't say - like i did - that chris did something that he knew could kill him and it did just that and it's shitty but it happened. i have no doubt that my father will only say that it's a damn shame to lose someone on the hill - it's a shame to lose someone period. well dad, i'm one step ahead of you this time, so nyah.

it's going to be odd once the snow thaws... i skated with chris, rode flatland with him. he gave me half the parts on my bike. he sold me my decks, my shoes. he lent me his road fools videos. i'm not sure i want to go into cyclepath or deviate if i'm not going to see chris there... in fact, i don't want to go because i know i won't see him there.

ah well, once again human frailty rears up and smashes what few walls stood between me, my friends, and the fact that we all can and will die. life's a bitch because i know she'll leave me.

c'est la vie.