They played the the slideshow, milleu of photos, singing, etc. They played the song ‘you are beautiful’ originally by Joe Cocker. However, this was a new version. They also played that at my mothers funeral. Was a strange divergence of green carpet. And Adam and, weirdness..
anyway.. Sometimes in the mornings before school Am would sing it to Lindy. His heart is so massive. People who have down syndrome have accumulated too much blood, and have to donate, this is why they have problems. Maybe it bursts because they contain to much pure energy.
I wonder if he had copious amount of blood if he had an enlarged heart to cope, what the ratio of down syndome people would be with enlarged hearts. If any of them have hearts that are comparable to phar laps. I’m going to look up autospy records. Or anyones hearts.
I don’t see how the preacher man kept going on about disability and people perception. I don’t really know what he said to be honest. He was happy, he lead a simple life to some people. To him it might have been something quite extraordinary. I guess we will never know. Why do they feel sad for him and see what he couldn’t do. He was awesome at video games, and worked at that place for 10 years, loved playing with saw dust. Would perpetually ask when his days off where, loved the calendar, birthdays, and the day of the week – Saturday because it was was a video day. Eating was important. Routine. Is important. There was this one passage Paul spoke of when he picked Adam up for lunch from work one day he described God as sunshine beams in the clouds. I think that’s an interesting sentiment. Conversations in the car. Makes for memories. Kudos.
The letter I wrote to Adam and his family.. I gave to Alicia.. well.. fuck.. that was a stunning display of how to lose a friend. I had forgotten that it was Alicia’s birthday. The second. March. I wondered if they would have funnel cakes. Join funerals and cakes together. For birthdays afterwards. Because they tried to make it a celebration and all..
And being me naturally I said something along the lines of
“sorry there isn’t a card but I couldn’t make myself go to the place that sells awesome cards and possibly choose the correct one. But if I did so choose one, It would be an epic birthday card. Sorry we couldn’t meet up in less fucked circumstances.. want some bubbles? …there’s only half left.” So, she walked away.. with my letter and must have read it because there was reminiscence of paper and envelope in the palm of her hand.
Paul just might be correct when he calls me a social hand grenade. Just don’t know if I’m a dud or I’ll explode. eh.
Or maybe they get the people that like balloons to do birthdays, and people who attend funerals the most to do the ‘sympathy’ ones. I don’t get this either.. WHY. Sympathy? Who want’s sympathy, freaking feel bad for yourself go and sink your self resignation at the bottom of glass eh. Tar and feather those people. Who write cards. drama ha. That reminds of the chicken that crossed the road. He crossed the road because his freaking neurons fired and they told him too. But the chicken that got hit by the truck has depth perception problems.. tar and feathered. eh.