12/13/2025
Visual Journal
—Life—
Here I am, restringing this guitar. I haven’t touched this one in almost 10 years. As I finish it, the memories of you and me—the friends, the moments we shared—come rushing back. All the nights we played games, trolled each other, and joked around. The little stupid jokes we clung to. This simple task takes me back in time: your laughter, your smile, how you always brightened my day when I was down. How you corrected me when I did something stupid or out of pocket. This is probably the last time I’ll touch this guitar. I’m restringing it for your best friend, to play at your celebration of life at his request. Miss you, brother…