Tommy, we hardly knew ye.
I was just browsing/eavesdropping through the tail end of your conversation about Joe, and I realized I hadn’t thought about that guy in a while, so I googled him, and this came up on LinkedIn:
Wouldn’t it be hilarious if the people you lost touch with did complete 180s while you weren’t looking? The videos JMB posted are a much more comforting reality than the above possibility.
School is good.
New job is good.
The view is good.
"And yet is sometimes seems to me I did get born and had a long life…and wandered in the towns, the woods and wildernesses and taried by the seas in tears before the islands and peninsulas where night lit the little brief yellow lights of man and all night the great white and colored beams shining in the caves where I was happy, crouched on the sand in the lee of the rocks with the smell of seaweed and the wet rock with foam or sighing on the beach softly…no, not happy, I was never that, but wishing night would never end and morning never come when men wake and say, Come on, we’ll soon be dead, let’s make the most of it. But what matter whether I was born or not, have lived or not, am dead or merely dying. I shall go on doing as I have always done, not knowing what it is I do, nor who I am, nor where I am, nor if I am…and be alone a long time, unhappy, not knowing what my prayer should be nor to whom." –Samuel Beckett
We both had friends slapped off the earth by the pacific ocean, in the same area of coastline, almost thirty years apart. She was digging around on a geneaology site, and found her deceased friend’s college photo, next to a yearbook quote of the above poem printed 15 years before he died on the rocks. Synchronicities always spook me a little, but the poem is still solid, regardless.
Also, I seriously love all my friends.