Wednesday, April 29, 2009

"And to all you Asians, I think we're very cool people."




I know the freeze screen may look a bit weird, but Kevjumba brings up a really good point.

Thursday, April 02, 2009

Josh.

A seventeen-year-old died today. Seventeen. Tall--blond--a junior at my school. I remember thinking, “Again? Not again. The universe couldn’t be so cruel.” I half-expected someone to pop out and say, “Ha! Gotcha! Happy April Fool’s!” and take it all back, but it never happened. My initial reaction was of course sadness and disbelief, but the news didn’t really sink in until I walked into my third period class. The principal had made a brief announcement over the broken loudspeaker system the period before, and as I walked through the halls and up the stairs from the basement to the third floor, I felt a sudden glum had settled over the entire school, affecting even those who didn’t even know Josh. Upon entering the music room, my heart sank. Not a single smile was in sight. No dimples, no crinkles in the corner of eyes, no teeth, no laughter. I saw one of my junior friends and just stopped in the middle of the room. His eyes were red and glassy, and his usual mischievous grin was nowhere to be found. He looked me in the eye and with the most solemn tone he whispered, “My friend just died.” At that instance my throat tightened and all I could do was give his arm a squeeze. I quickly walked away, trying hard not to tear. I felt like I didn’t have the right to cry over someone I didn’t even know. Beethoven’s 5th didn’t sound quite right as we began to play. It was as if the room had been drained of its intensity; its usual vibrant air. My friend David, bass player and unofficial class clown, walked out in the middle of class and didn’t come back until the very end. I caught his eye as he stood in the middle of the room, walked over, and threw my arms around him. Tears began streaming down his face as he buried his head into my shoulder. Being significantly shorter than him I was forced to tiptoe, but at that moment I couldn’t care less how uncomfortable a hug it was. No one deserved this grief. No one deserved this unfairness. No one deserved to die at such a young age, or experience the loss of a friend while they’re still a child.
I encountered many more swollen eyes and flushed faces throughout the day. It amazed me how many people were affected by Josh’s death--it seemed as if sorrow had flooded every inch of the school, seeping into even its most secluded corners and engulfing every heart. But amidst the blatant pain and sadness I noticed something; something I wish didn’t always emerge only after times of tragedy and death: a sense of togetherness; of unity. It was as if the entire school had pulled together into a single embrace, cutting loose from all its usual cliques and ties. The only other time I had ever seen the entire school so close before was when Dakota passed away three months ago. It saddens me that only truly something tragic has the ability of bringing everyone close together, and that only after a person dies do people really recognize and appreciate a person for who they were when they were alive. I pass by thousands of faces each day, but never really give them more than a glance--rarely ever a second thought. How many people do you encounter on a daily basis and glance at, but never truly see? I wish a life didn’t have to be lost before a person can really begin to be seen. It’s insane how much everyone takes for granted in this world, particularly Life itself. I mean Josh died of a heart attack at seventeen…and yesterday he’d been healthy enough to climb a tree. It’s scary just how unpredictable and short life can be.
I personally didn’t know Josh, but witnessing the huge effect his passing had on the student body has certainly affected me in some shape or form. It also got me thinking that if a person’s death can have such a great impact on so many people, imagine the immense impact one can make while alive?
As much as I’d hate to end this with a cliché: one person really does make a difference. Every single person does matter. And in the end, life is incredibly fast and fleeting. So make every second count. Don’t just speed through time, barely glancing around. Take a second look, and truly begin to see. Because only then will your life really be worth living (oh man, I sound like a fortune cookie…=/!)