Walking through the threshold of a packed church when your late to a funeral is like walking through barbed wire. I suspect frown upon. A daunting and arduous task from start to end. I think you are perceived as a bad person when spotted heading for the horizon and then bouncer on the doors stops and opens them… there is this awesome awkward weirdness, pockets would have been really handy. I think I might actually asked If could have borrowed his pockets. ha. strings attached.. as if the is the guy form mortal combat that silently screams ‘come here’ as I wait and then pass through. These people inside the building, have burning beams of light built into their eye sockets like little red directors that you find when you have been flashed with a camera, they point them at you with such an intensity as if they have all popped up and slid into their seats… like as if we were all simultaneously playing a game of guess who. Failing to recognise the masses of some 400 hundred plastic people. Or is it I am the plastic. Sometimes I really haven’t a clue. When directed at you these eye beams can lasso and defile your soul. Like giants walking thoughtless though a forest. At least Mrs Allen directed me to seat and told me to sit.

So maybe I’m no supposed to blog about Adams funeral. A massive Juxtaposition in a way. A celebration of his life was great. Then there was the pastor. = Fail. His brother Ben “my big brother Ben’ and his father Paul did fantastic job in the division of is Eulogy. They remember him for his personable nature, how lovable, quirky, and bold his huge personality is and how he would always be ready to push the boundaries for a joke.
Adams Eulogy was divided between two of his family members. His father Paul and who read a letter that his Mother Lindy had written shortly after his birth and the story of his life was read by ‘my big brother Ben’. I had archived how funny Am is. How he always knew where the line in a joke was, and then he would push the boundaries and well cross it. Ben made comment that one time in QML he took Am in and he had noticed Ambulance attendance there so naturally he pretended to faint, just took his place down in the middle of the floor unbeknown to the staff of the facility. They thought he had actually fainted. Or sometimes he would ask if the QML phlebotomist were vampires. Or one time when he was taken in for a research under a psychiatrist a question was posed what makes him happy- he replied with ” a wound up God’ and that was the end of that question. A funny quirky guy Who loved tormenting the video attendants, food, family, video games.. was always right, and Egypt.. that I didn’t know. and I forgot how much he loved Christmas. He will miss Christmas. In fact he had been singing Christmas carols from the beginning of July. 

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.

This is why they hire the hallmark people. I wonder how damaged they are.
I wonder if they have a different person with a different disorder for each category.
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. 

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