again, i'm not gonna use the quote tool (i'm such a rebel)... primarily because the last few posts all lead to my response... about this being a bad joke (don't get your hopes up... it's not).
but, just to illustrate how close we were (and now that i'm in a slightly better place and i can talk about it without getting all watery... which is due largely to the consumption of VAST amounts of alcohol on an immaculately consistent basis since his service saturday)... (should said alcohol wear off anytime in the conceding months, i may find that this isn't such a better place at all, and may continue to become considerably MORE cantankerous, self-destructive, and unpredictable... and given my existing nature, that's probably not a good idea), but the day after i found out brian was dead, i called him... not because i thought it was a joke or anything, but because brian and i were so close that it was just second nature to call him up and gossip like little girls about whatever was impacting my life at the time.
i'm unstable (i get it)... brian, being the good friend that he was, talked me through several suicide attempts (one of which i have a charming little antecdote and a shotgun shell that he gave me to go with, but maybe another time) , three traumatic relationships (one twice over), and a heroin addiction (which involved locking me in his bedroom for four days and sliding candy bars and cigarettes under the door). for all intents and purposes, we were like fucking ozzy and harriet, only without the hot mormon sex. i coooked, i cleaned, and i drove his car. he floated the bill at nice places, bailed me out of jail, and taught me to have a sincere appreciation for fine wines and liquors. i've known him since somewhere around sixteen... give or take a year. we met in a recording studio. i had some pot (and i'm pretty & narcissistic), and he had a pipe (and so is he), and everything after that is musical history.
i'm sharing this with you guys because,... well, you were his friends. his service was saturday. like i said, it was a catholic service (and hoorah, i didn't spontaneously combust upon walking in... further proof that god doesn't exist, and if he does, he's certainly not paying attention), and afterwards was an irish wake at a local pub that we both loved. i had to make a speech... which sucked, cause unlike him i have a terrible fear of microphones (which is how i justify my stage fright). there was a slideshow and his family was very, very kind. a mutual friend did a painting (from that same picture i posted) of brian as a paladin, which he totally would have loved.
it still hasn't fully resonated (or resinated, whichever is more appropriate) with me that brian is gone, but i will say this: i am who i am today because i knew him. again man, you guys are the best. thank you thank you THANK YOU for all the nice things you said about my buddy. i wish he could read that shit... but i guess the closest any of us would come to something like that is if we were printed as ingredients on worm food. or compost.
i'll post that portrait of him... just not right now. i'm a little inebriated (oh, alcohol and honesty have such a beautiful relationship). so ... so yeah.