Whether after a long, winding road or a short blink of an eye existence, we are all ultimately worm food.

Yet, those who treated me with kindness are being snatched away from me too soon.

You know the song Only the Good Die Young by Billy Joel?

It’s acceptable for me to know that a person gets to live out their entire, natural lifespan, or when a known physical illness cut short their lives.

Sudden losses — the unfortunate accidents — are what break me, especially a recent passing in September that I suspect was from a bullet meant for me.

I may be forced to live with the agonizing burden of never knowing or confirming the truth behind that departure.

I wrote about this in My Affliction Was Contagious ; That Transference Has Tragically Taken an Innocent Life

Back in 2017, the passing of a talented singer became a reality I still struggle to process.

Even now, I cannot bear to listen to his final album. While the nature of being in a band means the lyrics may not have been an explicit, personal cry for help, the painful context of his suicide made me feel like we all missed the signal.

We all carry our own demons, and he carried his — fighting them and living to tell the story.

I am surrounded by demons of every kind, living in a dual hell — one raging within my mind, and one manifesting physically in my space.

I must constantly battle the demons of my own making, my internal struggles- while simultaneously contending with actual malevolent entities that have aggressively rooted themselves in my life, courtesy of some contemptuous den.

Well, I’ve moved past suspicion of a haunted house; it is definitively their playground now.

We all believed he was past the worst of it, or perhaps, more accurately, I desperately needed to believe that he’s okay.