The last couple days the web has really killed my “high on life, I’m an uncle twice over” attitude.<\/p>\n
SharkBoy’s uncle died last week. One solitary call from his mom out of the blue – but apparently he had been ill for some time. I wish we had the time and money to go to the service.<\/p>\n
Last weekend, Mixmutt died<\/a>. He was someone I never met but had followed on Twitter and on Flickr for just under a year. He had an unassuming, no bullshit attitude and anything he posted (some of which are pure NSFW, something I envied of him) I enjoyed. One of his average tweets:<\/p>\n I hate when people make a big deal about babies walking. I walk all day every day and nobody throws me a party. Babies are stupid.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n A lot of other people enjoyed him too. Most of my contacts on a lot of social networks seem to have some sort of memorial moment for him<\/a>. I wish he had known the amount of people who were listening to him before shuffling off this mortal coil. Maybe he did. I feel for his boyfriend who was there for him when he died.<\/p>\n Tomato Transplants, one of the best bloggers I know (digitally) wrote about his wife’s miscarriage<\/a> yet was able to put a positive spin on it. Again, I feel for his loss yet admire his perseverance.<\/p>\n Yesterday I scanned my blogroll feeds and came across StudioYVR’s post of the end credits of Six Feet Under<\/a>, featuring the music of Sia (creepily, SharkBoy had posted one of her songs<\/a> a couple days earlier too). SYVR’s post is a dandy, In-Your-Cubicle-Weeping kind of music video, thank you very much.<\/p>\n Needless to say these events have dropped me in a funk. Subsequently I’ve been thinking a lot about death and how I will end. Ideally I’d like to go in my sleep. Most likely I will die in a freak accident where my cats will be forced to eat me. I hope they go for the kidneys first.<\/p>\n Last night I think I came out on the other side of this black cloud. This morning I had a dream that I was in a square in some European village with SharkBoy. Typical old buildings surrounding a fountain and cafes and pigeons sort of thing. I take his hand and we jump into the air and effortlessly fly circles around the square. We spy a hole in the side of one building, some 30 or so stories up, and fly to it’s ledge. It’s a funky artist style cafe for other people who can fly. We’re greeted warmly and served tart lemonade. I smile at SharkBoy. And woefully wake up from such a fun dream.<\/p>\n This all said, I remind myself (and you too dear readers) that it’s not how you go, it’s how you got to the going.
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