Dear David

I'm writing this letter because I didn't want to do a little blurb on your Facebook page that I know you'd never read.  I find it a bit pointless.  Then again, you also won't see this letter that I'm writing to you on this obscure little blog.  I'm a bit of a hypocrite I guess, but this is just something that I know I need to get out.

Honestly, I didn't know you very well and you didn't know me either.  Really, all that really tied us together were the few years we attended high school together before you transferred to another school, and my father's business.  But I did know enough to know that you were a great guy.  A genuinely wonderful person.  It's so unfair that you would have to be ripped away from this world, quite literally.

You brought so much joy to everyone you came across in your life and tried so hard to include me in it as well.  I remember how we ran into each other at my father's restaurant after years of not seeing each other.  We both stared at each other, not sure if we knew each other or not, and then you said my name.  We exchanged numbers after that and you came to visit a few more times while I was working.

We bumped into each other in school a few times too, but I was always too busy to have a meal with you and your friends.  I was too involved in my own club activities and personal drama to go to your place for a barbeque.  I was in a bad spot at the time; my own problems were multiplied by the problems of everyone else's on my shoulders.  I don't know why everyone confided in me.  I was such an emotional train wreck at the time.

I'm sorry I never made the effort to become better friends with you.  This is an awful thing to say, but perhaps it was for the best -- I have a bad habit of becoming terribly attached to the people closest to me.  Hell, I barely knew you and after finding out about you death I cried.  I'd hate to image how I'd be acting if we were close friends.

You know, last night, I was reminiscing about all the negative happenings in my life.  Things I've had to deal with regarding my race, past boyfriends, past friendships that were more than just a little unstable.  And I wondered, what was the point of all this.  I contemplated about whether or not life was worth my efforts.

This morning, I woke up and took every single thought back.  I'm a bit late to the news.  I did notice a few people posting things on your Facebook page (we don't share many mutual friends), but I didn't think much of it until this morning when Skye posted something along the lines of "rest in peace".  In a panic, I went to your page and started reading the comments people were posting and I realized: "David is dead."  I looked at your pictures -- I especially liked the one of you standing in the snow in your camel colored trench coat playing the guitar with your friend.  I searched your name on google and found a local news article that explained what happened to you.

I'm so sorry for what happened.  I'm sorry to your mother who had just come from Korea to visit you.  I am sorry for everything.

I should have made more of an effort to be more than just an acquaintance.  I think you would have really liked my pug, Loki.  He would have loved you too -- or he would have been terrified of how gigantic you were.  I would have learned more of your philosophies.  For now, I will take away the one that you told me when we first reunited: "Make friends with everyone.  You never know when you'll need their help in the future" (you then added on that you may need a shrink in the future and pointed at me).  I'll add another part to this philosophy: "and you never know when good people will be taken away."

Even though I don't really know you, I love you and I will always miss you, David Kim.


Sincerely,
Jamie

A Daft Generation

This may seem ridiculous, but I am currently so angry that I feel like I am about to vomit.  Seriously, it took a lot of effort not to throw up in a fit of anger while driving home -- disgusting, I know. 

You may wonder what it was that would have caused me to lose my temper, the answer is simple: I was in a crowded place surrounded by idiots.

It started off as any normal day, with the addition of my family.  After our Fourth of July barbecue, I met up with some friends to watch the fireworks at the nearby University that has one of the biggest firework displays in the area.  It's quite nice -- situated right by the lake.  My friends and I had gotten there early in fear of a lack of parking/space.  Actually, it was pretty empty when we arrived, so we ended up getting a really good spot, right at the tip of the lake opposite where they light the fireworks.  We set up our blanket, laid out some snacks, and proceeded to talk while we waited for the show to start. 

At first, my friends and I were a bit annoyed by the number of children that were freely running around and screaming, but as it got later, it seemed as though they got tired.  But then the real annoyance began.  The area started to flood with high schoolers (there's nothing wrong with being in high school, in fact, I have a few cousins in high school that I rather like).

Please keep in mind that in a previous post, I had mentioned that I live/am from an affluent neighborhood.  I'm assuming that these kids were probably from around the same area as me, judging by how they carried themselves -- like they owned the world.  They were going around screaming, saying stupid hockey chants (yo, it's summer), and just doing stupid shit.

Not only were they openly smoking pot in a public area, but they were also setting off firecrackers.  Seriously?  In the middle of a crowded area?  One of them flew and almost hit my friend you fucking piece of dick cheese!

What makes you think that you have any right to be disrespectful on the day that America gained its independence (even though the colonies technically broke away from Britain on July 2nd, revised the treaty on the 4th, and had it signed August 2nd)?  Why would you expose children to marijuana and risk the safety of those around you?

I don't care, how fucking drunk you are right now.  I don't care how drunk you were last year.  I don't care how perfect and romantic this spot is (you're facing the wrong direction you fucking moron).  The only thing that I care about is the fact that my hand is on a glass bottle, and one of the only things keeping me from smashing it into your ball sack is the cop who just told you to empty your pockets. 

For once, the cops in the area are doing something other than pulling me over for running a red light because I had to pee. 

Thank you officer!  I would be very pleased to offer you a spot on our blanket.  I have some delicious dried mangoes, tea, my friend has bread, and our vantage point offers a very romantic atmosphere that reeks of skunk and dumb-ass. 

You can't tell me that isn't cool.