8/30/2024

It's my birthday tomorrow, I'm turning 23. I don't know what to expect for my birthday, but that's my favorite part. I can't help but think of my grandfather. For some reason his death bothers me more than my father's. Something about the injustice of it all. He picked up some hitchhikers in Chechnya and they stabbed him 46 times and left him to bleed out in the woods. He begged for his life, he talked about my mother who was 6 years old at the time. He was 29. He was 23 when he had my mom, like I'll be. He crawled for almost half a mile after they thought he was dead. He fought so hard. I don't know, something about his life being robbed for nothing. For sick meaningless kicks and a stupid soviet car. At least my father died quickly, my grandfather had to die alone, fighting for his life. For a chance to be a father, for a chance to see the sun rise again, for a chance to laugh, for a chance to hitch another train with no destination, to drink wine with far away strangers, for a chance to feel warmth, compassion, love. It haunts me. One day my father just turned and it was over. Curtain draws to a close. You never know what tomorrow brings. Everyone always tells me, oh Ivan you're so young, you have so much life ahead of you. You never know that. Even a long life is all too short. So you better get started living. So if by some cruel chance tomorrow is my final day, it better be a very fucking good day. Every day breathing is a very good day. I love you all.