progressive bits from journal:
4-30-2011
God, today has been weird. Yesterday John died and it’s all I can think about. I don’t really know what I’m going to say; I don’t have anything grand in mind. But I start these entries like this sometimes without any real direction and somehow I end up saying that one thing I had to get out and say. Then I finally feel better.
What can I say? It’s fucking stupid that he died. I hate it. Can’t imagine a worse pick by fate to pick off.
He likes my word play; he liked “much too much love to love with” I like his wit too and I love his humor…
Sweet kind heart. So open and intellectual. So damn interesting. I called him a “sigh of relief to the human race” once. He always will be.
I took some time to read my old entries back at the end of 09 and into 2010 when we talked a lot on Facebook and I documented quite a lot of it...the heart of it anyway. We always have kept up this online friendship all this time but at that time it seemed to really explode. I mean, we’d have 4 hours chat sessions!
He always has had this striking effect on me, always. Way back even while we were at GV. He’d be in class and I’d be drawn to him, I’d notice him… seemed so familiar in the beginning even though we’d not said more than a few sentences to each other. It’s always seemed like he has a soul made from the same substance as mine; more than anything I love him like I love my brother. That particular feeling used to make me confused but now that he’s gone, I realize how it substantially and without a doubt it trumps all other feelings. He was so good, so nice. Sociable and kind to everybody.
Details are not concrete. I found a few articles:
5-2-11
The night before the morning John died a bird blew into my car. It was parked too, sitting at the library on the south side. It was probably around 7pm. I had come to pick up some holds, mainly Kaki King; the car’s engine was off, and I had one leg out from the backseat as I was searching for a lost CD (Highway Rider by Brad Mehldau)… found it under my middle console. Then I heard this tremendous THUD!
I looked up and saw through the windshield this awkwardly flying bird pass over from the right to left. He landed awkwardly about 20 feet away, fluttered his wings and feathers amongst two other birds. I sat stunned but laughed. I soon forgot it after I went inside and got the holds.
How could I possibly know what was going to happen to him in mere hours? I’ve heard of birds crashing into things like windows and cars as a omen to death, but usually for the death of the person who sees it. If it truly meant something, why so subtle? Why so ambiguous?
We always wish to go back. Agonizing time, moving and changing constantly. One moment to the next passes and you lose all opportunity. I want to go back and call him then, just to see what he was up to that night. Just anything… but I didn’t then. It’s over now.
Although, I felt compelled to text him last Monday just 4 days before he died. It was pouring rain and I was driving home listening to Eno’s Another Day on Earth, specifically the track “Just Another Day” and texted him the whole phrase “It’s just another day on earth” knowing he loved Eno too and would know exactly what I meant. I just had this overwhelming feeling I should send something to him, that it was important. Plus, the phrase felt right with the day… Of course, he replied right away telling me how that comment just made his day better.
There’s always been that kind of instant understanding of music between us, so easy.
But the bird...I don’t understand why these feelings and images present themselves to me if I’m not able to take them seriously or see the real meaning in it. What was I to do? Were there other things around that I missed, things that would have completed the warning enough for me to do something? Am I just feeling all the guilt of grief right now? Probably. But I can’t forget that damn bird…
And I hate the chaos answer, that there was nothing I could do and that there was no fault and no way to tell. Why the hell not? I want to believe we have some sort of warning system in our world, some sort of way to tell, to protect each other. Sounds better than sitting by like helpless stupid creatures.
Also listening to Eno’s Drawn from Life lately. “Rising Dust” “Persis” and “Bloom” are best.
All seems to pertain. These two albums were my focus all through last week and still now. His death just happened right in the middle.
I’ve always felt connected to him in a way that I can’t explain. There was something so similar. Maybe our too much alike dreamy & romantic sympathetic state of mind…soft-hearted and emotional. Crying at songs. Love to write. Love to be analytical, introspective, too much thinking.
Damnit I miss him. I miss feeling that, even if only in the outskirts of my physical world. But spiritually he always seemed to be right near me, like we had similar inner lining and substance. I'm sure he made a lot of people feel this way. He had a way of doing that. But he makes you feel like you're tucked away in your own corner and you have your own special time with him.
I could say the most emotionally-drenched, philosophically expanded & over-thought piece of “nonsense” and he’d put some comment on it on Facebook that made the most sense, like he was really the only one who could truly empathize. He took the time to read my blogs and notes and dreams when no one else did. We’d talk for hours on IM, or over the course of a few days through comments. Doesn’t really seem to matter to me now that we didn’t spend a lot of time together face-to-face through the last few years. He was in Alaska for awhile so it wasn’t do-able then. When he moved back last summer I guess I was just preoccupied. I do feel guilty about that. Why didn’t I try? Our online friendship thrived always, and has never really tapered off… Facebook has this immense black hole for me now. I wish we’d hung out more in person. I’m just glad I did at least once… and it was barely a week before he died. How lucky. It seemed to me that day that things would finally pick up. I sat there wondering why the hell I didn’t come over sooner. Why did I get so distracted? I felt like it was just the beginning to being real friends outside of the cyber-realm.
Now he’s just gone, ripped from life so harshly and violently.
5 11 11
I think the moment you really contribute something into the universe, you don’t realize you’re doing it. It feels the most like life so it fills you up all the way and requires all of your physical presence, including any attention to social perception… or any other kind of “impressive impression.”
What were great people thinking in their 20s? Anything remotely as silly as me? I can’t imagine not thinking anymore.
I wish John hadn’t died. I miss knowing there was someone else out there that I know I could strike up a conversation with randomly and he’d just go with it and the talking still be chalk full of meaning. He’d put so much effort into being meaningful. I miss feeling lost with him, in the same young and directionless way. The truly not knowing what to do with your life and truly being vexed by that… it’s painful enough as it is and it’s worse alone. I know I’m not really alone. But he was the best at making it feel less lonely. 90% of the time it was in indirect ways he never knew meant anything to me. Other times there’d be such a mutual feeling it was powerful. I honestly can’t understand the good his death could possibly be. Makes me believe more and more about some events in the universe being truly random and separate of divine order…. Not that it discredits God, but I can’t imagine him doing that on purpose. It’s stupid.
Sometimes I just don’t know what to say anymore. It feels better to stop, be motionless and still…. And not feel so much. Not breathe so much. It’s the hardest thing in the world to try with 0 motivation. Harder than any task itself could ever be. And it doesn’t matter what it’s asking of you. You could ask the strongest human being on the planet to disassemble a mountain and then ask me to push one small button, and if inside me I can’t find the compelling drive and passion…. then my job is harder.
5 24 11
seems like maybe eventually it will get better that you're gone. but it only gets worse as i slowly peel away my denial and the anguish slowly rises. over and over it seems so impossible in my mind, not you, you were so good. Fate really picked off the cream of the crop of humanity.
But nothing you did or said or were has anything to do with it. it's not about whether you deserved it.
we all can't help but ask: why was this allowed by God? how could it happen; where was your protection?
Is you dying a lesson for the people who love you? Do you have a greater purpose in death? i cant imagine any way i could be wiser or receive a life principle that's worth more than your life. I'd rather be stupid and have you instead.
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