it hadn't occurred to me to worry about him. now it seems that is all i do. isn't it my duty to do so?
i don't think i knew what it meant to live on the edge, scraping by, hand to mouth, month on month. as i watch, i feel short-changed, disbelief: how could this happen to someone so industrious, passionate, young? why isn't there an iota of right left in this world? i, slacker supreme, living an inflated lifestyle, anticipating some glamorous future. he, devoted innovator, worrying over the future and the past, reliving every mistake, combined with shit luck, acutely aware of how he has been robbed of his due.
i know that it gets worse. i'm not sure how it gets better.
i just don't get it.
i said my piece (or is it supposed to be "peace" since that is what it has brought me?), and he knows that if worse comes to worst, i can help, in my own lazy, insufficient way.
i am a poor excuse for a human.