Thinking of last week's sudden death of a new friend, I had planned to write about euphemisms for death, and the aptness of the term 'loss'. But now I've just learned of yet another death in my life -- this time, a friend of long standing, who I met when I was just 19, and he was a robust, tanned 26. And I fell stupid in love with him, some forty years ago. In countless ways, he changed the course of my life.
Now I feel a bit dizzy, and mostly as though all the bones have been removed from my body. Running through my head, a pungent quote from some half-read self-help book I bought a while ago, during yet another brief spate of hopefulness, and the re-emergence of a seemingly evergreen determination to set my life, now, on a newer, even better course. 'If you live long enough,' the author told me, 'you'll lose everything.' Which notion more or less vaporized my motivation for self-improvement.
If you live long enough, you'll lose everything.
I think this is all I'll write for today.
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