it was sad, losing a friend. why did he die? we lived together for four years. but I couldn't be there ultimately. I couldn't. And I feared the worst but I couldn't be there. so many people loved him. He was so kind and funny. He saved my life, found me having my first seizure and yeah - saved my life.
He treasured and laughed and made others feel some sort of joy that comes from that part of us that's youthful or whatever and yes maybe that's sentimentality oh it is. but it's so sad. did he know how much we loved him? he's in a better place. he left his body. I wonder how his sister is, his mother. The last time the hex was in NYC some of us ended up hanging with her. she's in my first book, in my heart, in everything. and now. what is to be done or said dear reader?
we got sober together in the early 90s, he and I. it was as they say, the "pink cloud" and with him I don't know how to describe it but best put everything was alive with meaning. without force, or annoyance. I can be like that, but know i'm annoying. geno never was.
for a while after oscar dying and geno dying and close studies of slaughterhouses, there seemed nothing. NOTHING. this is entirely false.
what a lie. instead, what's been found is that reaching out produces one result and retracting produces another. after all, he had boundlessness of love. actual love. dear brother, he is missed. write or - don't write. love or do not. the company of others produces the web of human relationships that empowers even the darkest hours. he was a great man. and readers i'm sorry if you don't care but i miss him so. brother in sobriety. kindness in love. never, not once, in all those years did I ever, ever witness one wit of weird cruelty. He only treated others with kindnesses. This is final. And I apologize dear reader. |
