I lost yet another old friend this past weekend, here's a repost of the (mostly reposted) bulletin I just left on myspace. I know a lot of you might have a friend or two that need help.... Give them that help if you can...
I'm reposting this from stiffy, she's got a way with words(its her job, she's the writer amongst us). Its a gene that skipped over me. I just wanted to put this up here again before it got lost amongst all the other b.s. about sweet parties and whatnot. I'm also hoping that my repost will help a message reach other people in other places that are going through the same things.
There's an epidemic thats destroying my (OUR) generation, and is doing so somewhat silently. Every time someone else passes I keep thinking to myself that maybe, just maybe, people will get tired of watching their friends drop like flies around them.
Nothing ever seems to change though.
Please, if any of you have any ideas... or even give two shits... say something! The biggest problem we're having is the fact that we all choke it back and do nothing until this shit swallows another one of our friends. Our silence is very much the host that spreads this plague.
The one thing I'm good for is often putting things a little more bluntly than I should, but goddamit (here it comes) I've grown tired of counting bodies.
For Dave, from me:
I'm sorry Dave that I won't be at your funeral today, unfortunately your passing came at a critical pass/not pass point in my summer semester. Honestly, I haven't even seen you in a bit, but I always remember you as a genuine person that I could always pick up where I left off with. I mentioned to Tiffany just yesterday that I felt like I should send some words with me to the service, but that I was at a point where I'm just kind of out of things to say.
This was the best I could do. I hope that wherever you are your free of all the troubles that bound you while you were with us.
Safe travels.
-A
I'll let Tiffany take it from here:
We are all torn about Dave Bobbit losing his battle.
And we are all pissed to see another great friend go before their time.
They wither away.
It's like being cheap shotted.
How can we stop watching this happen helplessly every time?
When is it enough?
If I ever wither, please, do not let me fade.
It's time to beat some ass and slam some bitches into rehab.
-Tiffany (a lonely anti-pill-whore)
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Here is some thoughts our dear friends have to say:
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A Repost from Dustin:
i meant to say something the other night to everyone at fuglies but did not feel right doing it.....the timing was bad
so here goes via the fucking web
Bo died less than a year ago because of depression and pills, now i dont know if that was the case the other day with dave or not......i had not seen him in a while.
what i do know is that there is another person that in my eyes appears to be in need of some help from everyone that knows him.
now im no doctor but i can tell when one of my friends is in a bad way emotionally.
If anyone reading this knows thomas nicholson please go out of your way to stop by and see him......if you need his address or phone number email me.......his phone is still shut off right now but should be back on soon according to him.
so just call and say hi or stop by and have a cigarette with him.....he wont admit it but im sure he would like to see alot of us from time to time.
-D
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A Repost from Brain:
I can't say I've spent much time with Dave over the past few years. I think I saw him once or twice since moving to Anchorage. I don't know what he'd been going through, I admit, but over the past twenty-four hours, with all the talking with friends who knew Dave, some better than others, I couldn't help thinking of a poem by Stanley Kunitz called "The Long Boat." Poor Frenchie had to listen to me recite various lines of it over and over again last night over beers and board games - our paltry attempt to keep grief at arm's reach.
So here it is anyways for the rest of you:
The Long Boat
When his boat snapped loose
from its mooring, under
the screaking of the gulls,
he tried at first to wave
to his dear ones on shore,
but in the rolling fog
they had already lost their faces.
Too tired even to choose
between jumping and calling,
somehow he felt absolved and free
of his burdens, those mottoes
stamped on his name-tag:
conscience, ambition, and all
that caring.
He was content to lie down
with the family ghosts
in the slop of his cradle,
buffeted by the storm,
endlessly drifting.
Peace! Peace!
To be rocked by the Infinite!
As if it didn't matter
which way was home;
as if he didn't know
he loved the earth so much
he wanted to stay forever.
____________________________
The Dave I knew would want us all to remember how much we love life, and would never want us to drift so far from the shore of ourselves that we are capable of forgetting for even one moment which way home is, that there are people there who love us, and he would want us all to live our lives as if they mattered, as if they were worth living, as if we wanted to stay forever.
R.I.P.
Dave Bobbit..
I'm reposting this from stiffy, she's got a way with words(its her job, she's the writer amongst us). Its a gene that skipped over me. I just wanted to put this up here again before it got lost amongst all the other b.s. about sweet parties and whatnot. I'm also hoping that my repost will help a message reach other people in other places that are going through the same things.
There's an epidemic thats destroying my (OUR) generation, and is doing so somewhat silently. Every time someone else passes I keep thinking to myself that maybe, just maybe, people will get tired of watching their friends drop like flies around them.
Nothing ever seems to change though.
Please, if any of you have any ideas... or even give two shits... say something! The biggest problem we're having is the fact that we all choke it back and do nothing until this shit swallows another one of our friends. Our silence is very much the host that spreads this plague.
The one thing I'm good for is often putting things a little more bluntly than I should, but goddamit (here it comes) I've grown tired of counting bodies.
For Dave, from me:
I'm sorry Dave that I won't be at your funeral today, unfortunately your passing came at a critical pass/not pass point in my summer semester. Honestly, I haven't even seen you in a bit, but I always remember you as a genuine person that I could always pick up where I left off with. I mentioned to Tiffany just yesterday that I felt like I should send some words with me to the service, but that I was at a point where I'm just kind of out of things to say.
This was the best I could do. I hope that wherever you are your free of all the troubles that bound you while you were with us.
Safe travels.
-A
I'll let Tiffany take it from here:
We are all torn about Dave Bobbit losing his battle.
And we are all pissed to see another great friend go before their time.
They wither away.
It's like being cheap shotted.
How can we stop watching this happen helplessly every time?
When is it enough?
If I ever wither, please, do not let me fade.
It's time to beat some ass and slam some bitches into rehab.
-Tiffany (a lonely anti-pill-whore)
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Here is some thoughts our dear friends have to say:
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
A Repost from Dustin:
i meant to say something the other night to everyone at fuglies but did not feel right doing it.....the timing was bad
so here goes via the fucking web
Bo died less than a year ago because of depression and pills, now i dont know if that was the case the other day with dave or not......i had not seen him in a while.
what i do know is that there is another person that in my eyes appears to be in need of some help from everyone that knows him.
now im no doctor but i can tell when one of my friends is in a bad way emotionally.
If anyone reading this knows thomas nicholson please go out of your way to stop by and see him......if you need his address or phone number email me.......his phone is still shut off right now but should be back on soon according to him.
so just call and say hi or stop by and have a cigarette with him.....he wont admit it but im sure he would like to see alot of us from time to time.
-D
----------------------------------------------
A Repost from Brain:
I can't say I've spent much time with Dave over the past few years. I think I saw him once or twice since moving to Anchorage. I don't know what he'd been going through, I admit, but over the past twenty-four hours, with all the talking with friends who knew Dave, some better than others, I couldn't help thinking of a poem by Stanley Kunitz called "The Long Boat." Poor Frenchie had to listen to me recite various lines of it over and over again last night over beers and board games - our paltry attempt to keep grief at arm's reach.
So here it is anyways for the rest of you:
The Long Boat
When his boat snapped loose
from its mooring, under
the screaking of the gulls,
he tried at first to wave
to his dear ones on shore,
but in the rolling fog
they had already lost their faces.
Too tired even to choose
between jumping and calling,
somehow he felt absolved and free
of his burdens, those mottoes
stamped on his name-tag:
conscience, ambition, and all
that caring.
He was content to lie down
with the family ghosts
in the slop of his cradle,
buffeted by the storm,
endlessly drifting.
Peace! Peace!
To be rocked by the Infinite!
As if it didn't matter
which way was home;
as if he didn't know
he loved the earth so much
he wanted to stay forever.
____________________________
The Dave I knew would want us all to remember how much we love life, and would never want us to drift so far from the shore of ourselves that we are capable of forgetting for even one moment which way home is, that there are people there who love us, and he would want us all to live our lives as if they mattered, as if they were worth living, as if we wanted to stay forever.
R.I.P.
Dave Bobbit..
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And I wish I had friends like you.
I moved away from my friends, but I don't know if they would do anything if they were around.