There is a strange chain of events happening to me recently. Perhaps, they just coincidentally took place in a coincidentally seemingly meaningful order.
First, my friend died. I spent my time lamenting on his leaving us behind. I did not know whether I was jealous of his bravery (maybe, subconsciously, he chose to go to another world, who knows?) or melancholic over a part of me vanished into thin air.
Second, I watched this movie Kill Your Darlings. Lucien Carr, please forget the real story behind, started out this circle of extraordinary revolution and finally ended up grabbing himself in jail and then an ordinary life. He had a soul, fragile and at the same time as pure as glass, encumbered in doubt and confusion and uncertainty. The “derangement of the senses” did not help him keep his circle from being broken when “another lover hits the universe”. There I found myself lost and melancholic as a poet, if a poet should be, with my circle’s lover “hit the universe”.
Third, I read the Sense of an Ending, which dealt with another suicide. Adrian Finn committed suicide in the most philosophical style available. Tony, after so many years making the “past for others”, discovered his responsibility in the event. In the end, I think, it was not all Tony’s fault. Still, a suicide was a death. The one who cut his vein bore no more pain. The one who survived, or so thought he adapting to accepting all what life gave him, bore the burden and torment. I do not think I had any remorse over my friend but the pain is real, and the torment is deep.
Forth, I tried to finish the last short story in “Men without Women” by Murakami Haruki. Another suicide appeared. No one would ever be able to describe why and how she chose to terminate her life. She was simply gone. The left-behind men, the most and second most lonely ones, felt all the cumbersome emotions on their hearts. Actually, we do not know what the most lonely (loneliest) one felt; all was hypothetic. Yet, the insights into how the alive continued the gone person’s heavy shades was realistic and understandable.
I do not fear death for myself. Whatever and however the pain is, it is temporary. For the ones who love me and support me, if there are any, it is permanent. A green card is permanent only till it is revoked. No one can revoke the ache of a lost soul.
For the mean time, in conclusion, all we need to do is “find where love hides; give, share, love; lest we die unbloomed”.