Losing a friend

[Originally posted in rockstardream blog]

Sometime life is not all about being happy, sometime it is about being sad as well. That makes life the perfect picture. Am I right? I don’t know really. As much as we want to be positive about it, that we want to view life is a much interesting and comical way, we are too will be subjected to the story on the other side, on being traumatize, being shock, depressed and complete disbelief over something beyond our control.

Well, I am sorry today I am writing something that is the truest in life that nobody, if given a choice wants to record it. This is about losing a friend, unexpectedly.
What does it feel like to have a moment talking to a life, drinking, singing and shooting pool with a life and the next moment that life is gone, taken away forever?
What does it feel like to be the last person on earth too sees a life being a life whiles other, the closest and the loved ones to that life being blind about it?
What does it feel like to be the one who sees this life jumping and kicking and screaming the night away and the next thing, lying static, lifeless, a stinking corpse, staring up at you?

And what does it feel to be the one surrounded by the amplifying of the sad tones of mourning and grieving of the loved ones especially the mother?
You just hope that you have the power to undo certain thing so every one that lives can be happy about it. But reality bites- that’s not how life is.
I can ask more and more ironical and universally complicated question about life here and thinking on how should one feel about it but that is not my intention here. My intention is pure and simple, and it base on real experience here.

OK, I tell you what does it feel to be all that I mentioned above because I actually one of the one in the above.

I felt No-thing!

That’s the ironical thing about it. I felt nothing. When I look at the lifeless body, I thought I should have join the band of mourning people, breakdown and cry, being depress and complete wreck or at least shed some tears like all human do, after all he’s a friend and a colleague too, but hell, it just didn’t happen that way and I just didn’t know what to react or to respond.

Then I was thinking maybe we weren’t that close to begin with but still how can I as a human not shedding even a drop of tear? Where are my tears? All my mind was reacting then was just submitting to that event of life, reckoning that this life had gone away, back to the one-ness of life and that hey man, life goes on kind of crap. But it is hard to remain the only soul who didn’t shed a tear and express nothing and acting cool, displaying the “life’s like that” facial expression while the whole world surrounding you breaking down and cry their heart out, howling and breaking the silent and icy night.

I was trying to reason out why I didn’t feel a thing that night? Maybe I was already traumatized by the whole event itself. I mean how often we actually see a life jumping in one moment and the next moment he’s as dead as zebra’s meat. Honestly to God, it’s my first time and having maiden experience to such uninvited occasion- I guess I was just subconsciously being traumatized over it that my whole didn’t know how to respond and to react to it. My whole was a complete blank, constantly lighted by the lit of cigarette.

I thought maybe I will at least cry a little when things are more in place like I am starting to come to terms at all that jazz but hell the time in ER in SJMC to mortuary and post mortem in Serdang hospital, I just felt the same. I was the pillar of strength and comforter to mourners. I guess that’s the least I can do to the loved one, which is just being around and tell the truth and good thing about the deceased to the loved ones.

OK here comes the story of life and death. This is not exactly a Hollywoodmovie but real life. We had clients from Thailandvisiting us for business purpose. And we brought them for a pleasant dinner and later round of drinking and pool shooting. We had a few drink and that’s it. The last I remembered about the deceased one was he was very sober till the very last moment when we walked out that door.

Now that he’s dead, everything he said and did seem to solve the jigsaw puzzle of his death. He kept saying things like “I think it’s enough, I should go away” or “Maybe I should just lay back and raise kids and stuff”. He was enjoying every minutes of his apparent last few moment in life for him. He was singing out of tunes and he enjoys it, he was shooting pool and dances the beat away and that place we visited was actually his strong preference.

It seems like he sees it coming and he really want to do it the last time, drinking away, shooting pool and all in his most favorite pub for one last time before the last goodbye. Even the time of saying goodbye, when we were all entering our own car, I can see the light and smile in his face, the kind that indicate complete satisfaction on life and “it’s about time to go” expression. He even makes sure we all know the way to get out of that place, directing very patiently my other friend the precise way back to the main road before he took on the sharp death cornering, skidded and kissing the body of trees, so hard I think he died on the spot- of severe internal concussion.

Of course at that time it meant nothing and it didn’t make sense. But they say people who about to die see sense the coming of it and hence all the signs they unconsciously did or said. They somehow knew they couldn’t cheat death. Maybe they did see those Nicholas Cage type of angels or Jack the ripper visiting them, inviting them to go home. I don’t know. Maybe.
Being one of the last to see him, and the only sober soul around the wreck souls in the hospital, the best consolation thing I can do is to be around and be pillar of strength and comforter whenever I am needed. And I stayed to the last moment until paying last respect in his funeral the evening after.

He is young and he died at the age of 26, almost the same age with Jim Morrison, Kurt Cobain, Jimi Hendrix, Brian Jones or Janis Joplin. I guess he had live his life to the fullest, all those fun time in college in Melbourne and around Australia, swimming with sharks and open water, bungee jumping, smoking out, whatever and true, the light of his face at the time of last goodbye, to my understanding now, really indicate he was ready to go that he had no regret over whatsoever. Maybe that was the reason I didn’t shed a tear for him. I don’t know. Well he lives and dies young and for those who know him, far, close and well, we will forever remember and cherish him in sweet remembrance of his young face; smart, witty and playful. He will never grow old in us, just like Jim, Kurt or Janis.

Well, few days had passed now and I still haven’t really shed a tear for him. I reckoned his death and somehow someway, I know he went with all his heart’s approval, leaving his body, back to the one-ness of life.

And of course I don’t feel bad for how I responded and reacted to the whole thing. And I shouldn’t. We all have our own way in grieving and mourning and I did just exactly that. Carry on life the way maybe he wanted some of us to be- living the joy of life for him. Maybe he wanted me to celebrate his departure that way and I got him. Ha ha, I don’t really know. I guess I am just crapping and that’s what they call it blues. Well, it was a scary beginning I reckon but I bet the ending is somewhat happy (I hope) even though it was about death.
Before I sign off- I would like to dedicate one song for him- by Elton John entitle “Funeral for a friend/love lies bleeding” taken from the 1974 album:

Goodbye Yellow Brick Road, arguably one of my most favorite record.
Live on my friend whenever you are, and don’t stop looking down on us.
Goodbye forever until I join you there.

13th August 2006.
P/s: Thanks Ernie for being part of my life.

P/s 2: I did have a fulfilling weekend though, because I really did carrying on living the usual way. Went to Planet Hollywood with Fara and some of her friends (even though she was unwell but I enjoyed my night, so no need to sorry sorry la, ok babe?), spent Sunday with my brother in Mont Kiara, and his interesting Sabahan friend, Mells and her Japanese friend- which all were interesting people, met Hannah (a make up artiste) which I sometime seen her around but finally get to know him/her (she’s a beautiful lady boy), introduced by Suja and much more which I am looking forward to for another just week. But I will write all this jazz in next post up! Ciao!

I love ya’allJ
Peter.