why do all the stories of all those who have passed on start and end with how good, how smart, how friendly the person was? ....... and what about the ones that wernt all that? werent any of that? ....to talk of them are words then fabricated or are the stories bent to fit the occasion. most people you meet cant string together more then a few good sentences about the living then where do these pages and pages of the goodness of the dead pour out from? and more importantly why now? now that these/your words bear no meaning on the person being talked about.
it bothers me sometimes that we each and every person who is told a story repeats it in an attempt to what? celebrate that persons life? and yet its done on the conditions, terms, words, adjectives that are predetermined standards for such things. ... generic almost. Rather then on the terms of the person who lived that life you now enjoy reminising so often at so many gathering ..................................

..........like the heart rendering tale of one of the (many) little boys who died in the earthquake, who was so intelligent and so popular, who hadn't wanted to go to school that day, who had to be cajoled into going by his mother concerned about regular school attendance. And who's friends when he died that day put up a marker and carved messages near his grave because they loved him so and were going to miss him so so much.
it does. it breaks my heart. but for some reason i kept thinking about the other boy(s), the quiet one, who also sat somewhere in that classroom, who was just about average at everything...not that bright, who didn't have an interesting story to accompany his death and who will also be missed but just not as much....

5:35 am