I have noticed over time, how my greatest fears have become realities. I wonder if we subconsciously create lives from these fears, or if life has a massive sense of humor and irony.
Many subscribe to the fact we all die alone, and I understand that. But with all that knowledge there's a certain comfort in having someone there to help you though the hard times, and maybe to be with you at the end.
My Godfather, my dad's best friend is dying of Cancer. This is happening right here and now. My parents have traveled all day to be with him; to see him before he goes.
It always seems to me that we prolong suffering too long. In trying to be humane, we instead put ideology ahead of compassion. We fail each other in a fundamental way. Life may be sacred, but sometimes I wonder if doing no harm is the same as doing nothing at all.
It's seems so wrong to make this about me right now, especially with John fighting to the end, but if I'm to be honest here - but I always feared the similarities I see in his life. Like me, John never married or had children. I'm stronger than this, yet at times like these I'm reminded of the finite nature of our lives, and how the smallest moments of fate can have long term repercussions.
It seems easier it seems with someone to anchor you. It seems easier not being alone. As much as I'm happy that I've always strived to do the right thing - I know life might have been much different if I'd taken a different path; had I kissed the girl all those years ago. Instead I sent her away.
Today, in the real world, my Mum held John's hand, and told him he'd done enough, he'd fought long enough. He smiled and closed his eyes - not for the last time; he's a fighter, even now we all know the battle is lost.
Perhaps we should all be as strong, and maybe as just as stubborn.
So; we met at her house at 6pm; opened the bubbles, and started to drink. Turns out she knew her husband too well and smelled a rat. Fifteen minutes later we were in an 18 person stretched Hummer limo, on the way to god knows where.
We arrived, we drank. We drank some more. Time flew - did i mention there was a lot more drinking, even more singing and dancing.
Three days later I miss it, perhaps because I realize that great moments in life are invariably inter-dispersed with incredibly boring parts as well.
In the meantime I wonder many things;
I think about the happy I think about the laughter I think about the honesty The good will and the things we say when we're uncool.
And I cant help but wonder how much of me, is drunk me.
I'm so going to take a hit on this, but Jon Stevens is a kiwi, and he really can sing. I don't care if Jesus Christ Superstar was a crazy idea - I just love how they just went mad on the arrangements, and implemented a real rock score.