I don't think my brain has comprehended it yet... I feel like everything must be some kind of sick joke, or some social scheme... but truth seems to be pointing where I don't want to look...
From what I've heard, he had been drinking, and walked alone, over a bridge, took his stuff out of his pockets, put them on the ground, and jumped into the water.
Some say it was suicide.
I've thinking myself crazy over this, over and over again. And I don't want to reflect more than necessary right now.
My thoughts right now, swarm around the fact that he had been drinking... so did alcohol make him feel like he would be able to swim then and there?, and if so.. did alcohol damage his mind and nerves enough to make him UNABLE to make it to the shore...?
Ofcourse there was more to it than that... He probably had a hard time emotionally aswell... damn I wish he had talked to me, so I could have done everything in my power...
I already kind of semi-hated alcohol. The one mindbending poison people constantly feel like defending. But now I'm feeling a hard time keeping cool about my thoughts on this drug...
For me to make a change, an actual change, I must continue as I am, to show people that it is not needed to have fun. For that I need patience. Things like this tend to take away my patience because I want to defend those around me. From what they themselves choose to drink... which makes it difficult, because I am not going to force anyone to do anything. It must come by their own will based on observation. Ok I don't even know what Im talking about anymore... I don't like this.. at all.. and I miss him...
Going out dancing tonight, to honor his memory, and start the dancefloor, dancing for both of us. I hope he's watching me from somewhere.
Hoppas du har det bra där du är nu Krilla... <3
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