Bacardi Rum, Aged 8 Years (original)

So I start this journal entry with a bottle of Bacardi Rum, aged 8 years. The picture here is of two sake cups, filled with this rum. I toast Melvin for wherever he may be, that in our next life time, may we come back as cats. Cheers brother.

My friend Mel took his own life Sunday evening. I was contacted through his email address from his best friend. Originally his friend wanted me to call him but I was firstly, suspicious, so I had asked he told me through email. To cut the story short, to this day, though it has barely been three days, I am still quite shocked.

Mel considered me as his good friend and mentor, but I told him that our friendship has no one-sided mentorship. We can both learn from each other, as well as teach each other. He felt that I transcend humanity with my thoughts – something I mainly keep from most of my connections. I told him that it is more possible that his thoughts and my thoughts are of the same or similar substance, but we both express it differently. Therefore, we offer the same or similar ideals and concepts, but just speak of them differently.

Mel will continue to live on in the memories of his friends and family and other connections. I had hoped we would eventually play a game of Chinese Chess over green tea and possibly even over some of my mom’s own ‘jelly’ cake. Alas, he left us too early.

For the last two days, I have replayed my own words to the ether over and over again. “Damn it Mel!” And I could not say anything further.

I know that suicide has various variables and there is no universal anti-suicide ‘law’ or guideline, but we have so much more to talk about, so many more thoughts to share. He had came here, my blog and commented and questioned in a few of my entries Saturday and yet not even a day, he left us.

Damn it Mel!

—–

Mel, as you are gone now, I do have words for you still. You didn’t even wait for me. As the ether allows it, my letter to you, as I typed it in the days and nights that followed yours…

My ideals are flawed through the intricacies of humanity because humans are not unified. You, I live here, in this universe, this dimension. The ‘purpose’ is a fallible mind frame many humans require to live. They need a Raison D’etre. I live my life as a human being until I am being recalled. Therefore all this, all of these subjects seem so eternally foreign to me, but I must live on for the sake of being human.

Remember I once gave you the concept of an ocean of rain drops forever falling from the skies, falling, melding, colliding, being together, splitting? That is humanity in a nutshell. It is a ‘flawed’ concept if we look at it from the rain drop. Humanity as it stands need not a reset button. As they stand, they need to be annihilated. Alas, it is not my time yet.

Mel, I will cheat a bit and say that I wonder, where you are now, recalled, how you see the universe as it stands, so far from being a part of it, yet so close to it. I wonder, how nice you are in that ‘place’ to be able to feel everything, but at the same time, completely distant from it all.

I am saddened that we cannot share our minds and thoughts further, in this human format. Being human, being a human being, in this world of political, religious and social doctrine is so difficult. Indeed, I have friendships that aid in my understanding and knowledge of being human. I also have my human parents to hold me to this world. It’s just that, it is extremely rare to find another ‘soul’ that can be in that unified state.

I don’t think all of my other friends know this, but I live in a state of constant loneliness and this has nothing to do with intimacy of the female kind. I felt this way, even when I was with someone emotionally and physically intimate. I just constantly feel foreign, as I become more and more aware.

Like fish is to the rivers, to feel every pressure, every current, every flow. To feel the change and the motion. It is so unlike what humans feel because all they feel is selfishness and righteousness.

I need a drink, but not beer.

Mel, I brought up a futile question to one of my friends last night about why a person may end their life, even with certain variables in place. Ultimately, I was not seeking answered, but venting excess thoughts. I appreciate that he took me seriously and answered them to the best of his abilities. Sometimes, I wish I can keep my mouth shut. More often than not, I just want to drink alcohol, but not beer.

The years, the age of wines and Port seems distant now. Everyone wants a quick buzz. I don’t want to be hammered. I want to sit at a lounge, dimly lit, with wine, overlooking the North Shore through the huge windows, while my friends speak to one another and some woman is singing a song in the background. That’s my ideal night. That is long gone. When once all I had to do was voice it, even just hinting at it, those who were with me would just go with me to the lounge and hang out there for a few hours.

A commanding voice? No, hardly. Just obviousness. I was never really a beer drinker, but I loved wines. Red wines. Dryer the better.

I remember, those days… In that basket chair, the waitress comes around with our drinks. She wore a gray dress with a slit down the sides of her gorgeous fit legs. She sets down our drinks and one of my friends makes a flirtatious joke to her, while I look pass them at the band playing some jazz and smirk. After she leaves, we raise our glasses and toasts each other. EVERY TIME we had a new glass of something, our toast was something different.

“A toast to our health.” “A toast to more money.” “A toast to more nights like this.” “A toast to beautiful women.” “A toast to great friendships.” “A toast to excellent wine.”

Those were the days. Now, tonight I am here in my computer room, typing up these memories, coinciding my thoughts and feelings towards my friend Mel, alone, yet again, drinking rum of all things.

Mel, I shall join you when my time comes. At the moment, my canvas is not yet painted fully. I will paint you in mine for now. Alas, you ‘should’ have lived on. We needed to connect further.

PS: this is not Melvin Wong. This is another Melvin I know who lives in the states.

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