the atm spits out blood
dearly departed,
"I'm asking you to stick it out and see this thru, yr asking me to zip
my mouth and keep this just between me and you..."
Aside from a preacher that spoke awhile of fire and brimstone, and the
nonsensical poli-spin speech recited by Hayworth, you would have been
proud of your funeral.
Things were very "last minute" - of course you left us when the weather
was miserable, and many had already left for school...there was only a
week left to travel, cope, think, write and make it work.
Your sisters were composed (as you would've been) but tortured. Your
parents couldn't even speak.
The flood of people into the procession continued until virtually every
seat was taken. You drew more of a crowd than any funeral I've ever
seen.. I would liken it to the sum of people at a Dave Matthews
concert. I'm sure this would have pleased you.
Most didn't know how you died or why. Circumstantially, I knew. I knew
because I know people who understand pain. And you knew we understand
pain. And you knew we weren't too close to people who couldn't handle
the truth or the pain. Though under occasional scrutiny, I did not
reveal your little "secret" to the population of Cave Creek, Tempe, or
surrounding areas. I get it, I do, but it still wasn't fair to the vast
mass that showed up on that fiery hot day. If you had asked, I would've
passed this on..
"I wasn't worth the pain my death would cost; so I was not lost nor
found" -D.W.
When we lost my father, there was no choice. My pain spawned from the
uncaring chaos that is our universe. Chaos that took away a healthy man
that wanted to live. I wish you could've perceived your choice. I wish
you could've swallowed what people go thru and overcome outside of suburban
america. How little it would mean in the end or even in the middle...
these things that pushed you over the edge. I'm sure you felt there
wasn't a choice, as I have been there too... and fear of pain alone hath
kept me around at times. At age 22, you caused more pain than you
would've known. For me personally, there was pain that flickered in and
out of quasi-existential crisis. Statements like...
"If I could've been there from the beginning, if I could be there RIGHT
NOW...if I could promise to be there when you need me would it raise an
eyebrow?"
Left thinking. I could've said the right thing? Could've
perceived the deep volatile seeds that others missed? Yea, I let it
go. We weren't that close after all; we only spent every school day together from third
grade until your funeral. The closeness I feel now is more in line with
understanding your pain than what was socially constructed over all
those years.
Thanks for the music. Its my only look into you from now on...
"I'm asking you to stick it out and see this thru, yr asking me to zip
my mouth and keep this just between me and you..."
Aside from a preacher that spoke awhile of fire and brimstone, and the
nonsensical poli-spin speech recited by Hayworth, you would have been
proud of your funeral.
Things were very "last minute" - of course you left us when the weather
was miserable, and many had already left for school...there was only a
week left to travel, cope, think, write and make it work.
Your sisters were composed (as you would've been) but tortured. Your
parents couldn't even speak.
The flood of people into the procession continued until virtually every
seat was taken. You drew more of a crowd than any funeral I've ever
seen.. I would liken it to the sum of people at a Dave Matthews
concert. I'm sure this would have pleased you.
Most didn't know how you died or why. Circumstantially, I knew. I knew
because I know people who understand pain. And you knew we understand
pain. And you knew we weren't too close to people who couldn't handle
the truth or the pain. Though under occasional scrutiny, I did not
reveal your little "secret" to the population of Cave Creek, Tempe, or
surrounding areas. I get it, I do, but it still wasn't fair to the vast
mass that showed up on that fiery hot day. If you had asked, I would've
passed this on..
"I wasn't worth the pain my death would cost; so I was not lost nor
found" -D.W.
When we lost my father, there was no choice. My pain spawned from the
uncaring chaos that is our universe. Chaos that took away a healthy man
that wanted to live. I wish you could've perceived your choice. I wish
you could've swallowed what people go thru and overcome outside of suburban
america. How little it would mean in the end or even in the middle...
these things that pushed you over the edge. I'm sure you felt there
wasn't a choice, as I have been there too... and fear of pain alone hath
kept me around at times. At age 22, you caused more pain than you
would've known. For me personally, there was pain that flickered in and
out of quasi-existential crisis. Statements like...
"If I could've been there from the beginning, if I could be there RIGHT
NOW...if I could promise to be there when you need me would it raise an
eyebrow?"
Left thinking. I could've said the right thing? Could've
perceived the deep volatile seeds that others missed? Yea, I let it
go. We weren't that close after all; we only spent every school day together from third
grade until your funeral. The closeness I feel now is more in line with
understanding your pain than what was socially constructed over all
those years.
Thanks for the music. Its my only look into you from now on...