05 death.

why do bad things happen to good folks? is there a reason behind this? is it just mere coincidence that bad folk escape consequence and harm, and that all things ill-fated hit the less-scheming, less-hateful?

good people court misfortune. good people get used. good people never know when to say 'sorry, not this time'. what kind of courage and despair does it take to drive a man to kill himself; a good man, as a matter of fact. everyone knows that to take one's own life is not even a last thing to do. but when you have no family, no friends, no love, no means, but only fear for the future, can there not be some validity in it? how does one find hope and possibility for a better time and space to let your heart calm down and to just say to yourself, 'alright, things are going to get better if i get over this fucking obstacle', while without any of the formerly mentioned elements that each and every individual soul craves for. do you not want to be in that spot to experience what it would be like, to be pushed to the face of death? the face of despair and pure nothingness? would that answer your questions and inexperienced judgments of calling one a coward who escaped problems at their worst and unsolved?

you would not even fucking dare lose one element i'm sure. i'm so fucking sure, you coward.

the question that is always overrated and talked about dying is that who would come for your funeral? who would eulogize? surely, people are going to arrive and pay their final respects and all that, but who would weep so fucking hard in their hearts they won't function properly the next few days, months, years? the answer i hope, is obvious. drop the inconsequential accquaintances and prioritize properly why don't we. its fucking stupid right, giving bits of soul to too many people.

the dead would always have a story to tell, a hell of a story i'm sure. but they can't share it, they die with it, without letting out slight bits even, before death. imagine walking around with heavyweight issues constantly poking into your soul, not being able to share and shame yourself a little bit - only because you want to stand on your own two feet without getting looked down upon. is that foolish? isn't that just an act of maturity, to settle your own shit and then come back at a better time to face the people whom you think are truly concerned? who are truly concerned anyway? no fucking friend is going to go the whole stretch anyway. really, close your eyes and think about the load that i want you to conjure up and put in your heart; when you've done so, imagine living with the load with everything you do - walk about with it, eat with it, take the long bus ride home with it, sleep with it, or rather try sleeping with it. you acted well. it all seemed too simple.

how does it feel to stand on the edge 24 storeys high? that talk about your life flashing by moments before death, how would it play out? finalcut style with childhood progressing through adolescence, to manhood, to gaining wisdom and finding that other half while you age through your last years playing golf, or something. what if you're young, say 24. what would 'flash'? that one or two loves you thought meant to be forever? still thinking about how the future could actually turn out to be? what you would be missing, and if it'll be worth visiting and waiting for in the first place? or would you think about the people you hate and laugh about it and quietly forgive them before leaving; we all used to love people we hate at some point anyways. we all make choices, whatever consequence awaits. thats the beauty of learning isn't it. the price for lessons sometimes..

i wouldn't be able to answer that. i don't have the guts to experience the question either.


have a good one man, i pray you're happier now. i respect your decision and guts; i don't want to question you either, my brother. you're a true friend. you made sure all were sorted before you.

checkmate; in loving memory of. 84-08