Lucky (thank god for rocksmith)

I don’t know if I mentioned this before years ago or something, but I’ve often thought about how lucky I am to be alive, whether I like it sometimes or not. In high school, no hyperbole, the only reason I didn’t kill my self, and I had a (pretty garbage) plan, was because the one thing in life that made me feel anything by that time was playing guitar and music. Maybe four years before I committed to taking my own life, which I’m reserved to being what kills me if someone or something  doesn’t beat me to it, I found a guitar in my basement in middle school and my life changed. I connected with it, I was good at it, and I connected with virtually everyone around me with this one thing. If I didn’t have that I would have chugged NyQuil and cognac at 16 after being expelled, and god does that sound painful. Music, ie creating, listening, performing, etc. is still my only purpose left in life, and the overwhelming likelihood is it’s bound to fail. I can cross my fingers and pray to make a difference with it, and who knows? Maybe I will. But the end result will be the same. This body can’t reach it’s expiration date before its mind can. It’s halfway there already. But with a little more luck I can mean something to someone, which is better than I have, at least beyond family right now.

im lucky I’m not dead

im unlucky I’m alive

I’m glad I’m drunk lol