John Fucking Hart.

 

That was pretty much my name for John at all times. He was always and will always be John Fucking Hart. Well, six years years ago on July 2nd, John Fucking Hart died.

 

I was trying to think of different ways I could tackle this horrendous event on my stupid blog, but nothing seemed to be working. I didn't want it to get too heavy. I haven't written anything in a while, so I didn't want to come back with sadness. Now, don't get me wrong, there's sadness here. I'm currently listening to the last thing John and I ever recorded, from the last night I ever saw John alive and there is definite sadness here. 

July 1st, 2009 was unremarkable. John and I were looking to scratch an itch for making music. We used to jam at MSUM on occasion, so we went there. Donny Jenson accompanied us and we loaded in. We started to jam on some shit and I liked how it was going, so I set up my computer and recorded it. It's the last thing John ever recorded and I think I've recorded one other thing since then. Donny, of course, is a cool guy big shot with his own awesome band now, so he's recorded plenty.

 

We unloaded all of our shit, John (or Donny) told me I had a headlight out, which made a lot of sense since I hadn't been able to see much while driving at night, but I was too dumb to make the connection. I drove back to my apartment listening to “Songs to Scream at the Sun” by Have Heart and thought about girls.

 

I had a security door at my apartment, so I waited for John to get back to my apartment. We walked inside and talked about that evening. It couldn't have been very late because I don't believe we could be in MSUM that late. From there, we did what we always did: we talked for hours.

 

Around 4 a.m. or so, John decided he needed to get some sleep. Casey was coming to pick him up around 6 a.m. or some such early departure time, to head to Montana. For whatever god damn reason, I decided I would stay up and see John off. I knew I wasn't getting any sleep that day anyway, I've talked about my sleep schedule a bit on here before, but I stayed up. I laid in bed until John started to stir. I walked out, gave John a big ass hug and told him I loved him. He told me he loved me too.

 

And I never saw him again.

 

I don't want this to be sad, even though it's devastating for me to even try and relive this shit. But John wasn't a dweller. In fact, my uncle had passed away not long before John did. John came up to my room (we were living together at the time) and asked what was up. I told him my uncle died. John said, well fuck it, right. You can't do anything about it now and he wouldn't want you to be all bummed, so let's get over this and hang out.

 

So that's what we're doing here. Fuck it, right? I can't do anything about it anyway.

 

Here's some of my favorite John Hart stuff, including some never before seen/heard shit.

 

I love you, John Fucking Hart.