dear J,
"…most people imagine that a man suffers because out of the blue death snatches away the woman he loves. But his real suffering is less futile; it comes from the discovery that grief, too, cannot last. Even grief is vanity. "
this is your favourite caligula.
when we first met I was 20.
you were 31.
we talked the entire afternoon.
two cups of coffee, then
we walked from bedford to the river
it was windy.
u told me about your childhood stories
i listened
so carefully as if I was watching a film
trainspotting.
after the sunset we went to your flat at bushwick
for the kitty.
you made tea.
we watched something together.
u said u needed to see me so u skipped the pain killer
just to see me.
i cried for your pain
the pain i had no reference to.
u hugged me and said,
it's okay.
i'll be okay.
we kissed,
for a million years.
then we were in love.
it was right after patti smith's reading at lincoln center,
it snowed in new york.
often we argued about things.
we argued about too many things.
sometimes i criticise you for intellectualising daily life too much.
sometimes it was the opposite.
love was one of our favourite subjects.
of course love.
love.
"You are so loving."
"You are so much loved."
"sending you love."
the first time you told me that you loved me i was frightened.
how come?
i mean, LOVE.
love?
"are you being american?"
i would tease you every time you pronounce the word.
then you would smile and say, "i am american. and i love you."
i remembered myself being jealous when we were together
as you had so much love to give.
then what's special about our love j?
i wanted to ask you.
but I never did.
as I realised that gradually how much I become like you,
to create, to hold, to preserve this tender, childish, naive yet complicated affection inside of me
to let it grow big, infinite, uncontrollable, beautifully,
without any boundaries nor explanations.
then it came to death.
death.
you said you were not afraid of it.
you said its just that you don't want it to come too soon.
"life is an emergency." that’s what you always said to me.
and I didn't understand.
of course.
how could I?
then I saw you burning,
burning so furiously that it pained me.
you tried to experience things that brought you close to the experience of death ,
you tried to figure out what would come after life drifts away through a so-called rational, scientific way.
it's funny that at this point, finally you traveled there,
yet its somewhere, perhaps you must be alone.
perhaps it's the only way that you are able to perceive freedom.
solitude and freedom,
the spirt of humboldt, the place where benjamin wrote that piece together we’ve read so many times,
the place where I'm flying to.
that summer night we were in the japanese garden in my collage,
you pointed out the brightest star in the nightly sky and said, i'm gonna be that star, perhaps soon.
which one are you? you asked
the tiny little one next to you.
the last time when we skpyed I was in london.
come back to new york bird, you said.
that time you would be a phd in columbia and I would meet you on the street.
then we 'll fall in love again.
i smiled.
yes. yes. perhaps.
sending you love from nyc. new york misses you. i miss you.
it was the very last sentence you had for me.
love and death,
seem to be your life, your art —
love.
&
death.
dear j,
It was difficult for me to know that you are flying away, so sudden, unexpected.
you don't have to be strong darling.
though i said this to you often, secretly I selfishly expected that you would be fine.
you would be cured.
the next time when we ran to each other on the street, you will be healthy again, with your eyes shining so brightly as the blue star we encountered in that summer night at Northampton
but.
you've done enough.
so please, leave all of the pain, the misery here in this world,
leave all of that to us, the creatures who loved you and whom you loved.
let us take it. let us take it for you, and be free.
even if in that world you are alone, you have enough power to face it and create a universe anew.
you were so strong.
you never compromise.
cheers J,
love is psychedelic, so is death.
i believe that they are the most beautiful experience in our journey of life.
and now you've been through all of them, courageously, gracefully,
without fear.
my forever blue star,
R.I.P
.
你
一定去了更美好的地方
bird.
2015.02.02