01/24/2013

Some scenes stick better than others, a field of flowers set alight, that’s not a common scene I guess. It was beautiful, not sad or anything silly like that, it was just beautiful. Fire has this, vivid dancing charm to it doesn’t it? I’ve never known a human, to hate fire, even people in Australia, where bush fire ravages and destroys places and people yearly.

Sometimes, I forget that he’s dead, I live normally, I’m happy and distracted, easily entertained, I watch shows and see friends, write and listen to music, these things, but, when I do remember, it’s like everything stops, and my mind spends a few seconds, trying to reconcile it, it’s like finding out new each time, I try to place, this world, in the succession of worlds in my memory, and it’s all foreign, how can, something that was a given, stop being there? Regardless of whether I loved him, hated, argued, needed, wanted, despised, any of that emotional nonsense, I mean in the most basic sense, it feels like this reality doesn’t belong, that Terence has been misplaced, and reality with him. I talked to him the day he died, saw him twice, I remember seeing him there, a bit past midnight, dead on the bed, an awful scene, nothing beautiful or poignant about it, it looked like he’d had his soul ripped out, and I don’t even believe in souls, it was an awful awful sight. He stopped being, charming, and frustrating, and all his of his personality and in death he became this body placed in an ill form by the universe, because a dead man cannot place his body in any way, it was nature that made him look like that, that was natures idea of him without himself, of his body, his vessel, nature, has a much lower opinion of Terence than I do. Every person he met he charmed, people adored him, which I found peculiar because it was all so blatantly false and meaningless to me, his interactions with these people, they knew and understood nothing about him, I know he was a private person, but even at the funeral, listening to Brenton speak, which was a terrible decision, dull, humourless man that he is, I could see, how Terence would be criticising him, the whole affair, the family and everything, I’ve never believe in making someone out to be better than they were in death, I acknowledge the faults, Nana was overly proud, Fiona was a selfish child, Simon was an abusive bastard in his last years, Ian was a terrible alcoholic, Terence was vain, paranoid, selfish, and a bastard, but I loved all of them the same, I still do love them, I don’t know why people expect you to hold on to the love, but not on to the hate as it were, the criticism, fact is a lot of people are more defined by their flaws than their graces, but you love them, sometimes because of that, it bothered me how petty and conspiratorial Terence could be, but it also amused me at times.

Robyn and I both laughed at the thought of putting ‘Terence, loved by all’, on his grave stone, I mean, what nonsense. Actually I like what Robyn chose, ‘Sadly missed along life’s way.’ I suppose the sad is a bit of a downer but it’s true.