Tickers flashing, statuses updating. The words shiver down my spine, until they don’t sound like words anymore. They don’t sound like anything anymore. A hypnotising whirlwind of energy comes to an standstill- the abyss reaches its end.
I look at the pages of my journal, to the clips of movies playing in my head, to the lines on the tip of my tongue, to the nuances of my being. And I find cacophonies.
Cacophonies of poetry, of humour, of life. He reminded me to suck the marrow of life, to live deep, even if it meant living offbeat. And I don’t know if suicide is a side-effect of depression, or if free will governs our souls, or if life even ends at all. But I do know that your legacy will live on in the pages of my journal, the smile on my face, and the person I am.
“But I with mournful tread,
Walk the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.”