Dear Rasta,

Thank you for being a friend when I needed you. Thank you for making me laugh so damn often. I can’t say thank you enough. 

I miss you, friend, and if I could find the low life ass hole who drove over you in the driveway ant then just drove off, I would beat them close to death and then leave them maimed for life, because you deserved better. 


I fucking miss you.


excerpts from journals past…:

“Rasta is currently laying on the floor, looking cute as ever. He has one of my socks between his feet, I wish that rat bastard would leave the damn things alone, he loves them far to much and with his ears cocked forward that way he is far to cute for me to scold. Another spoiled. The cute ones always survive, or so I’ve been told.”

“Rasta is now watching ‘Star Wars: The Clone Wars’ with me, it’s pretty chill of him, if I do say so myself. I retract my last statement, he’s now taken interest in you Jenkins, I’m sorry if his curiosity hurts you.” (Jenkins is the name of my laptop, for those curious, don’t judge.)

“+6952+—-Rasta jumped on the keyboard.”


Chase birds until the end of time, my friend.


I fucking love you.


I fucking miss you.







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