Oh crap I forgot about those... can try to passwords for them.
i'm waiting to see if the letter he was writing back will arrive... finished or not. if i were a relative, i'd send it on, but someone else might be too busy/sad to do that and think it mere junk and bin it.
*sigh*
sounds a bit like he's been trying to make his peace with others here; noor must have been a good influence on him.
Well I like you beginner or expert.I'm an absolute beginner.
Don't bother. Just my sense of humor. I gave them away freely when I shucked their fictional core...
... I do not believe he would want me to be all maudlin.
http://www.harkavagrant.com/history/shellyfinal.png
I'm very sorry for your loss, Noor. You should have had more time.
, not give the keys to their loved ones, no matter how well-meaning they may be.
Noor, I wish we were close enough to hug each other. You gave him a gift that so many people can only dream of experiencing, and he gave you one, too. You invigorated and soothed him; you helped him find his music again. You deserved more time, but I am so happy that the time you spent together was so joyful and special and full of laughter. You gave him bwankets and I could see his tail wag. He felt you, and he took you with him everywhere. I think he took part of you with him to wherever he is now. That's part of why it hurts so much. I know first-hand how lucky he was because you are my friend, too, and I am so grateful.
It feels impossible that he won't be here anymore. His erratic sleeping schedule gave the impression of omnipresence. He could be quiet for days, or even weeks, and then he'd come in from all directions at once, no matter what time it was. His name would show up on the "Last Post" column on the first page like he was trying to carve it into the site like a tattoo, and I wish he'd managed it. I wish that I could come here every day knowing that I would see his name, see at least four of his threads about nothing and everything.
Even when I'd take a break from posting, I'd see "Byronicus" pop up in my email inbox with something kind or sweet or funny or Youtube because god forbid someone misses out on one of his top bazillion favorite videos. Sometimes it seemed silly, but he wanted to share things: his heart and his mind and his mood and things that he simply found to be fucking awesome. If I didn't respond in time (sometimes I was busy doing things like, you know, sleeping), I'd get a text that says "you have mail" in a variety of different languages, or something that was in English but equally foreign to my morning-addled brain.
6:26 am (3:26 am for him...): "You are the king of chaos, Mason - you know that?"
6:30 am: "Just own it. You still owe me an airplane."
Fuck, I'm going to miss that.
He loved the things he loved unabashedly (sometimes enough to about post them in the Blurt thread 38 times, back to back, without pausing to take a breath), and he loved his friends. He experienced the things he loved with joy, and he was never afraid to take the lead from his heart and from his gut, even if it meant that things might get stormy. He lived with feeling and he wasn't concerned about breaking shit along the way. Sometimes I wished I could be more like him and sometimes I worried that we were too alike already, but I have always and will always admire him. I'm glad I told him so.
He called me a fungus once. I cherish it as one of the nicest things that's ever been said to me on here, and maybe ever. I like fungi. We had a submarine. He was my co-captain cum XO. I thought we had more time, I really did. I thought we'd have so much time before we were all forced to surface. It still felt like the beginning. It was spring. He was my friend. I am happy for the time we had and I wish I'd done more to take advantage of it. I will remember him for a long, long time.
He was (past tense still feels surreal) such an interesting soul. He could drive you crazy as easily as he could melt your heart, but he'd force you to feel something either way. That's part of why he'll be so widely missed, and I think he'd be so touched to read everyone's thoughts of him.
It always seemed that he held a special affection and regard for conflicted, tragic heroes - Hamlet, Byron, etc. He saw them in himself, and I knew why, because he could be just as noble and childish and brilliant and irrational, but he was so much more than that. He was silly and sweet and he was our friend. He was Naughtius Maximus. He was an artist. He was a fixture on the submarine. I still owe him a plane.
Goodbye, Byron. Thank you for everything. You were so much fun. I wish you could be here. I wish I could show you things that would make you laugh or think or post "by the gods, I say!" Oh, seven hells.
Ain't he somethin'?
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9tTCgwJ8DUU
A few years ago, a non-Gee Bee Litster passed away unexpectedly. He had mental issues and chemical dependency issues and marital issues, and found likeminded friends here. One such friend - a woman who'd been friends with him for like 7 or 8 years, though then never met in person - reached out to me because she was considering telling his wife about his Lit posts. He posted quite candidly (though without names) about his life, his difficult relationship with his family, and his general state of mind. I could understand her need to help them try to understand who he was, but still I told her that if he'd wanted her to read these things, he would've showed them to his family himself.
It's tempting to try to help loved ones off the Internet fill the gaps in their knowledge of a person by exposing their online life. But I really feel that good friends should respect our right to privacy, even if we aren't around anymore. A good friend should clean your browser and delete your passwords
To be honest, I don't think there's anything here that would give them comfort. In fact, without Byron here to explain why he said what he said and provide proper context, it might only leave them feeling confused. It's better that they remember him as he chose to show himself to them. Just my $0.02.
