Here’s a video of EB in New Jersey. We needed this show after a string of sub-par nights. Thanks to the dudes at Choke Artist for filming and posting this!
My father, not my favorite. He is without a doubt the most self-absorbed, twisted, abusive, brilliant, myopic son of a bitch on the planet. So, he was a chemist. That much I already know. He worked out of a basement lab in Harvard, doing research for a toothpaste company. I also know that there was an accident at the lab one night, that my father was arrested, beginning the first truly peaceful period in our home. But here’s the thing, Olivia: my gut tells me that your friend’s life, the one hanging in the balance, not gonna be saved by a tube of toothpaste.
Following the fatal shooting of an unarmed black teen on Saturday, and the ensuing media portrayal of his death, Twitter expressed outrage in the form of a hashtag: #IfTheyGunnedMeDown
There’s also a Tumblr.
For the love of god, please. The worst part is, months from now—at least before the next award show—we’ll forget that he’s gone. It’ll be in the past and we will all move on. We’ll remember all the great things Mr. Williams did but forget how he left and why he left. Depression fucking sucks and no one is immune to it. We all get sad, most stay sad, everybody (probably) denies it.
Don’t let it get the best of you. It’s hard, may take a long time, may seem pointless, and may sometimes feel like it’s nonexistent, but it’s there: everyone has a reason to live. And, even if it’s meant to be short, enjoy it.
I tried all day not to just break down, idk why this is hitting me hard—probably because this is the worst day of tour so far—but it is. At the show today, the news silenced the venue, but when more showed up it was only mentioned in passing and at least once during everyone’s set. Yet, we moved on. Or, we were good at hiding it. I’m trying to right now. I guess this is my only outlet.
Mr. Williams was the reason for some of my favorite laughs and tears. I always wondered how I would feel once he died. I didn’t want to feel it now nor did I think it would be like this. It sucks. And, again, depression sucks.
The point is: please don’t let it get the best of you.
So, once we forget that he’s gone, don’t forget why he is. Fuck anyone that tries to deny its impact. It’s serious. It exists. Don’t let it stop you from existing. I know, easier said than done.