on death

So what do you do at a wake for a guy you barely knew? I felt out of place and knew I couldn't comfort anyone. And left within like 20 minutes. It was my next door neighbor, Nick. I met him once in passing, and one night he knocked on my window and freaked me out. He shot himself (they're saying) on Superbowl Sunday. We were out of the country at the time. They had only lived there about a year, maybe less. It's sad. I hate when people die. Especially like that.

I found his MySpace profile today. That was weird. I guess his site will just stay there now. I never really thought about all the websites and things that get left when a person dies. That's the world of technology now, I guess. Well, I was reading what his friends wrote about him. Trying to know more about him after the fact, I guess. He seemed to have lots of goth friends. And apparently there's a secret room at the Masquerade.

I sort of wonder if anything would have been different if I'd become friends with him, and been here for when he needed to talk. I guess that's the choice you have to make when something happens. I chose to find him a little creepy. But what would you think if somebody knocks on your bedroom window late at night? Sigh. I wonder.