goodbye

The goodbye letters and packages have been sent.  The shop is empty.  Hot Wax Unlimited is history.  The loose ends have been tied.  Nothing left to do but the doing.

I can't help but think of all the people whose lives my departure will affect.  My mother, absolutely.  The law officer given the task of informing my mother.  The person who discovers me.  The folks who'll have to handle me.  The family member asked to ID my body.  My sisters, who'll have the difficult task of trying to console my mother.  They'll also have to speak the words, "my brother killed himself."  To all of you, let me apologize in advance.  I am deeply, deeply sorry.

They'll say I was depressed.  I've read depression defined as "anger turned inward."  I'm not angry.  I'm just...finished.  I've done what I could with what I was given.

They'll call me things.  Loser.  Quitter.  Wimp.  Pussy.  All true.

They'll say, "But, he was so good at _______."  Well, being good at things hasn't made me rich, hasn't made me happy and doesn't get me laid.  What's the use?
 
Thirty years ago, a shipmate said to me, "You have trouble dealing with life."  I didn't want to hear that, especially from him.  He was right, of course.

I am grateful for my twenty-four years in the DJ business.  I routinely saw people at their best, enjoyed following pop music and got paid to do something that I would have done for free.  I was put on the Earth to be a DJ, and I've done it.

I'll say it again--I've become someone that the world can do without.  I'm an asshole that no one likes, and I can't deal with that any longer.  I'm tired of being alive.

This blog amounts to little more than a bunch of whining.  If you choose not to read any further, I'll understand.

Thank you for stopping by.

Peace out!
Jeff Fluker