soph

my friend stevie fischer died in a fire 2 blocks from my house at 3 am on tuesday morning. he was 23; beautiful, an amazing artist and fashion designer. he had the biggest warmest heart i've ever known and the most radiant smile... i read a fucking newspaper article about it this morning.
this is stevie.

so... yesterday morning after school i ran into jeremy on the muni platform, and he told me stevie's dead and i just looked at him and said - what? it spread like the worst fucking gossip in the world. in a few hours we were all sitting in the park drinking and crying and trying to laugh. maybe 40 people, in a huge radiating water balloon of pain on the grass by the dolores tennis courts. i complain that they don't sell 40s at 7-11 - booo. j. asks have you ever seen a gay man drinking a 40 in the castro? ummmm yes: stevie. we did it almost every sunday. it was the sweetest & worst joke ever. on the ride there peter put on the radio and aerosmith was playing and that made us all vibrate silently with the sorrow. here we are in the car and you can feel everyone's head screaming stevie's dead dead dead... steven tyler shrieking take me to the other side on the radio till everyone sighs at once and stacy turns it off. vicodin and maker's for dinner, later the coke and the sleeping pills made me sick and i still didn't fall asleep until after 5. i'm exhausted and i don't think i even have any more tears for now. i wish we could pool all the dozens of our lives just to have him back.

this sucks.

EDIT: we are having a BENEFIT PARTY at hush hush (14th x guerrero) this saturday to help raise money for the funeral and to help his family. please tell everyone you know and come if you are in or near SF! there will be food and music and booze, etc.