77 Wars

when i was in high school and i read slaughterhouse-five, i figured out that i could read something other than stephen king books. that there was merit, somewhere, in this whole idea of learning and experience. that the people who organize things don’t necessarily know anything about, well, anything.

maybe it’s because i’m feeling older, but i realize that, especially as a guy who reads and watches a lot of wwII stuff, that pieces of our world, or our connections to them, are constantly disappearing. it’s not a time for me to be sad about these things, but to embrace them while they are here and remember that we’re all going to die. my girfriend’s grandfather told me about how he had to hide in the mountains in southern france during the nazi occupation, and who’s gonna tell our kids about all that stuff? no one will be here to do it in person…

shit, i’m rambling, pointlessly, but i’m sad that another great writer is dead. though, it was good to know we were walking around on the same planet for awhile.