Wednesday, April 21, 2004
Today is sun shiny and warm. My spring insomnia is back because the days are so long my circadian rhythms are out of whack. It happens every year, and it takes about a week of sleepless nights before my head resets its clock. I stay up really late. I read. drink herbal teas and warm milk. toss and turn. lay down get. I do a lot of button clicking and read random people's blogs. I read an entry of a girl whose best friend committed suicide. The details were scarce. The entries seem directed at those already aware of the exact happenings and circumstances. It mainly expressed the normal confusion and standard reminiscences of a teenager, a child, who has met with what mortality actually entails. It happened to me when I was near her age. A friend died because of the same teenage foolishness that all teenagers practice but mostly avoid the repercussions due to luck and naivety. A car accident that left her dead, another passenger in a comma from which she would return with brain damage, and a driver with a monstrous amount of guilt and shame. I was out of town when it happen but returned before the funeral. It was the first funeral. I didn't want to go. I am a coward when it comes to anything which reminds me of mortality. I went. I didn't view the body. I had no desire to add to my few visual memories of her with that image. The tears didn't come when the family and friends gave their speeches through unsuppressible and stuttering sobs. They came when I saw the coffin lowered into the ground only then did it seem that person was gone and removed from us. I left with speaking to anyone. I wrote down everything I needed to say. In different words but they expressed the same confusion and reminiscences that I read in that anonymous girl's journal entry one thousand miles and several years removed from my experience. I anonymously left those pages upon the grave. I wanted someone else to read those words but I wanted no connection to them. I needed to express those very private thoughts but not be recognized as their source.
Posted by Jarred McGinnis at 21.4.04