Hey.
You know how memories are reduced into scenes - brief fleeting scenes of funny or emotionally-charged events. I'm not sure if you sometimes get those flashbacks but I get them a lot: like the poetry line "I bear no heart mercuric like the clouds to bear exacerbation from your subtle plough..." and your accompanying pose, one knee down, one hand folded over your head... the chilling scream "Hide me now!"
It's always hard to forget.
I mean no one can forget how tightly you used to squeeze your face in prayer, and how easy it was for you to hold large audiences spell-bound by the energy, fire, humour and whatever-necessary that you always brought on stage. Remember how we used to play rough... and how you'd always win. Tinks? Lol... Remember Junior hostel; housemother?
OKAY..... THIS IS ACTUALLY WHAT I WANT TO SAY... I really miss you bro...
The Atlantic is really not wide enough...
Call sometime.
-Ileri
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