👤
content warning, i’ve never talked about this online.
Percbuddy is a chaotic avatar of cathartic self-expression and an intravenous connection to the internet.Â
“wanna be my perc buddy?” was a question given to Ethan Cooper by a young woman after a group rehab meeting in 2019, and it was the catalyst for my adoption of the name Percbuddy. I co-opted this name to create a character through which i gained the confidence to experiment with genre and songwriting.
two weeks before i planned to visit him In late 2022, Ethan had his life taken by a fake pill, reduced to a statistic in the nebulous “fentanyl crisis” when we were both 18.Â
He was a creative beam of light who inspired me endlessly- He gave me the name and was always my biggest supporter. It turned my life upside down, but it also gave so much more weight to Percbuddy and what it represented.Â
it’s difficult to articulate the feeling of the sudden and permanent absence of my best friend. it was a violent rug pull, and i lost all vision of my future.
the desire to completely destroy myself had never been more intense than at this point, but it somehow also never held less power over me. half of me begged to be snuffed out, while the other half clung onto life harder than ever before.
all i can do is live, and hope he can see me wherever he is, which is tough when the brightest light in my life was taken so young, giving me a million reasons to hate whatever higher power would be careless enough to let him die. He had written 3 feature films and a massive collection of short films. He had struggled in the past but was at the healthiest point in his life.Â
i’m truly hoping for an ascension to the 4th dimension when we die, allowing us to move across time as effortlessly as we move through space. I hope Ethan is omniscient, i hope he can read my thoughts, i pray to gods i don’t believe in that Ethan can still hear my music.Â
Ethan Cooper was stolen from the people who loved him, stolen from a world which could have been a better place with his work in it.
the emptiness he left behind can never be filled. Art and Music are my coping mechanisms , pop music is how i distract myself , and creating through percbuddy is how i keep his memory alive.
May 29, 2025
Comments (1)
Make an account to reply.
I’m sorry, man. I have several friends who are statistics now too, and it still hits me at random moments. Know that the pain is rooted in love, and it’s better to feel it than to not. Ethan Cooper was (and is) very lucky to have you as a friend. You’re doing a good thing by making sure his name keeps being said. It’s said you die a second time when your name is said for the last time, and now Ethan might never truly die. 💛
Related Recs
I've written here before about Elliott.
I hesitate to call him "my friend" because we didn't really know each other all that well although I interviewed him yonks ago and our Portland social circles have definitely overlapped before and since. I own a few of his guitars now (courtesy of his ex girlfriend JJ Gonson who some of you have admired here because of her insanely great photography) and some original lyrics too. Maybe I should say I'm "steward" of these.
I would encourage you all -- if you're fans -- to watch my friend Nickolas Rossi's documentary "Heaven Adores You." You can rent or own it on YouTube (and I've linked the first few minutes here). A number of us who knew Elliott and felt pretty protective of him during his lifetime (and even MORE protective of his legacy after he'd passed, given the circumstances of his death) finally agreed to participate in it after turning everyone else away, for years, and somehow it walks the fine line of being candid about his struggles with depression and addiction without trafficking in salacious nonsense or gossip.
In the final analysis, Elliott knew no other trade but to put his very personal observations on display in a very public place. It is the space between that Elliott explored, and the tug-of-war between these sparring catalysts that he spent his life attempting to reconcile.
This is the memorial I wrote for him immediately after he passed. I was fucking devastated (then and now), mostly because I felt like it was an ephemeral passing moment, a shooting star that had briefly appeared above the Earth and was already gone. So it's an inherently selfish thing -- I mourn his passing mostly because I know that there will be no more Elliott Smith music, and that's just a huge loss for the world. I miss him on the reg but these days I understand why he is gone far better than I did at that moment, where all I could feel was just bottomless loss.
Much love to you Elliott, wherever you are. Thank you for the music, which meant so much to me. Still does.
Oct 22, 2024
It's been a week since my brother Jacob passed. He was the last person I expected to go—an extremely active cyclist, hiker, and traveler. We still don't know what exactly happened, but in a matter of only half an hour he went from making his breakfast to his heart stoping.
So many of his traits I admired so much felt like things I lacked; he was disciplined, reliable, and energetic. He traveled the world and made friends across the whole globe, it seems. He was always adept at math, a subject I always struggled with.
He was only 18 months my junior. I literally can't remember my life without Jacob in it. At some points in our childhood he felt like my shadow. Since we were homeschooled during the early years of my life we spent so much time together. I took that for granted, but now I'm so grateful for all the hours of fort building, hole digging, camping, biking, basketball, getting destroyed by him playing NBA Live and womping on him in Mortal Kombat.
I really regret simply assuming he knew how much I loved him. We were brothers. We fought, argued, and teased each-other. He was such an appendage to my day-to-day that I didn't ever stop to tell him how dear he was to me, how proud I was of all he'd done, how grateful I was for all he contributed around the house and with the family, and how jealous I was of his fearlessness with change and travel.
People ask how I'm holding up, and it's hard to answer because—all things considered— I am doing alright. The hardest times are when my brain and nervous system still haven't realized he's gone: hearing the creak of a door and expecting him to walk in after a bike ride—his cycling shoes clinking on the tile; learning some soccer news and wanting to text him about it; feeling eager to get his feedback on something I cooked.
But the most difficult thing has been encountering the pity and sorrow people have shown toward me, because that somehow reveals the scope of the loss and the depth to which folks cared about him and care about me. Knowing we share some impacts of this loss breaks my heart. I so deeply appreciate all the offers of help and reaching out, and yet I have nothing to offer. I have nothing for which to ask. My brain just short-circuits.
Perhaps the best thing you can do for me is to let your loved ones know how you feel. Find one person you have maybe taken for granted and share your love clearly so that they truly know how much you treasure them because they won't always be around.
May 6, 2024
Back in February, I lost my friend and coworker, Paul. He was the first person to pass that I had spent almost every day with for years. The ironic part was the morning i found out, I had just been thanking the universe that I never had to go through that pain. An hour later I found out he was gone.
Paul was very special, a one of a kind guy who built a life for himself through his love for art and music. He was an old school punk who was in a few bands back in the 90’s that helped shape the local music scene (Poo Poo Stick and Rotten Gramma). He started the tattoo shop I work at back in 2004 in the hopes of taking in good people who just needed a chance to show their skills. It’s been voted the best shop in the area by locals every year since ~2010. He loved Star Wars and Radiohead, loved doing my dumb skits for the shop’s social media, and had an affinity for butts unlike any other man I’ve ever met. In between tattoos, he would sit on the couch and we would just talk for hours. i still think I see him sometimes when I’m turning the corner when I come into the shop sometimes.
We just started cleaning out his tattoo station, and well.. it hasn’t been easy for any of us. Neither has having to tell people over the phone that he has passed away nearly weekly, and then having to continue on with my day like normal.
This afternoon was especially hard for me, so I figured I’d share the love with you folks so more of the world can know how cool this guy was.
Apr 10, 2025
Top Recs from @percbuddy
when u manage to land a gig , even if you bomb, hand out custom bottle openers, stickers, or business cards if need be. (preferably the former, something that isn’t easy to throw out. but IS easy to pocket or add to a keyring.) make sure nobody leaves the venue without a piece of you - this method helps me hack my crippling social anxiety. the pretense of a gift or offering acts as a shield in the face of dread and uncertainty, allowing me to approach people in a way which often feels impossible.
this is inevitably not viable for a lot of creatives. you are taking a net loss in the hopes of creating a personally memorable moment for the people in your scene.
you could call it a percbuddy psyop, but i also see it as proactive realness.
May 28, 2025
May 28, 2025
🥰
bc this reminds me of friendproject🫶
May 28, 2025