Lynk has been down lately.

I don’t post like this very often.  Honestly, I’m usually either happy/hyper, or completely disgruntled.  Today, I have my waffles in a bind.  It’s all been little things leading up to this.  The marbles have slowly been spilling out of the hole in my bag, and now I am left with only a few, and none of them are the most spectacular.  The marbles I have left are plain and dull, and don’t have very Viewtiful colors.

I’ve been tired.  I’ve been busy.  The days have been going by much too fast.  The people have been testing me almost consistently.  My patients have been gnawed at to the stringy, unstable marrow.  Personal demons have been haunting me more than ever.  More and more deadlines for life-altering questions have been pushing into view, and I have nothing to give.

I think out of everything, what began this entire state of bum-down can be pinned back on my friends.  A few of my closer friends have not been in their usual moods lately.  A dear fellow Quad mate, for instance, has not been himself lately.  I feel completely lost in aiding him.  He’s a damn good kid, and he has really pulled himself out of the pit of helpless self-abuse over the past few months.  The kid is the man.  I just wish there was something I could do.  And then there are other friends, some who are very important to me, some who, honestly, it’s all your own loss and fault.

It could possibly be the weather, but, truthfully, I enjoy the easy 34 degrees.  Perhaps it’s the food.  Maybe I need a new motivation.  Maybe I just need a new video game.

Good night my friends.

Lynk, I absolutely fuckin’ love you, buddy. I hope you understand how much of a valued friend you are to me.

I’m not going to California, because of kids like you. You are my friend, and I’m not going to leave you for some “potential” friend.

I am so thankful to have a friend like you, and I can’t thank you enough for the support you have given me in my quest to clean up my act.

Don’t worry, once the buds begin to bloom, I’m sure all of our stress will fade away with the snow. Everyone’s got Scandinavian Fever… fuck the winter. We’re gonna patch up that hole in your bag and find your marbles, I promise.

I love you, friend.

~Mister Jones



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