A Reminder

We all want to say we were blindsided, that we didn't see it coming. I think we know better. This was someone whose entire career was created from this pain. This pain that we empathized with, that we knew full; we were kindred spirits. His words rang in our ears like toning forks, we weren't alone in the darkness. We we're alone in our pain. He gave a voice to the silent suffers. To be able to give form to emotion, our emotion, and gave us hope. It gave us anger, it was the scream we couldn't let out. It made us feel alive, some for the first time ever. It was salvation delivered through CD's and 3.5mm jacks: Divine_Providence.mp3

We lived and we thrived. It gave us strength beyond ourselves; and we left. We lived and he died. He was one of us. We knew the pain he felt, we knew the suffering all too well; and we abandoned him. No know stopped to help the savior, and as our martyr it is too late. He cried, he begged, he screamed for help, but we only used it for our own lives.

We could keep beating ourselves bloody over our failure; yet what's done is done. Blood cannot be traded for life. More so, his death must be a testament and a reminder: none of us are truly feel and no one is immune. We forever live with these crosses and must acknowledge the possibility that others do as well. Plato said, "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a harder battle.” Thousands of years later and we still need to be reminded.