Writing while this is still fresh but I really needed a moment to at least collect myself. This isn't a tribute, ode, or anything like that. randomonlooker deserves more than a collection of fragmented rambles out of me, and I'll see that he gets it regardless of how he isn't around anymore to appreciate it.

I was going to write a journal about how exciting it is to be next to a chemical plant exploding and toxic soot raining down and all that nonsense. It seems tame now.

You were one of the few artistic influences in my life.. and I'd like to think you weren't humouring me when you expressed that I influenced you too. Whenever we spoke I got the thrilling sensation that anything could happen, as you were full of life - full of inspiration and ingenuity. There was always something going on. And I was invariably happy to even catch a glimpse of that.

You were full of generosity and attention when you gave insights to my problems, and more than tolerated my whimsical ramblings when I returned the favour. I always got the idea you were full of vitality, a beacon of positivity in this world. I saw you like that.. I hope I expressed it sufficiently in the short time I had to do so.

I woke up just now with the ridiculous idea in my head that you had eloped to a distant planet, and this was just to let Earth down easy. Your travels would've brought you far enough to make that happen eventually anyway.

So.. you were going to help me with this song I'm writing. What gives? You were a bit silly sometimes.. I guess concerns that weren't ill-founded, just foreign to me. But just a few weeks ago you were opening up to me more and more.. for that I feel privileged. In fact, it was always a sort of easy-going privilege to talk. It was easy to take you for granted because you were always pleasant, regardless of what we spoke of.

I'll also remember your wit and curious, genius headbrain. Always willing to be open to new artistic experiences. It didn't matter if it was made before Jesus frolicked around in Jesusland or if it was a cheesy comic with stickfigures. Music of course was your main passion. I can't begin to describe the loss I can see when it comes to listing what you still had to give even on this one field. You were so passionate and always going strong. An inspiration.

I sometimes wondered if you didn't get tired. But you always were full of mental energy and vitality, even when you were terribly sick. I guess you knew what you were doing. I remember talking about swiftcutter's streams that one of us missed, and the conversation evolving to how the development of napkins had affected etiquette in modern society.. or the estranging qualities of quantum physics. It never seemed that odd. You didn't even get tired of hearing me, and you always had an interesting story to tell. Very graceful and cognisant that we were all just human beings with a strange sense of humour.

I wish you'd have let me visit you in the hospital. It's not that far away.. I would've made it. You're a real friend who deserves nothing less. I can't begin to imagine what those who're closer to you are going through. And I'm sure that you even affected strangers merely by passing by them.

I don't know yet how you have died. I wonder what the last things were that you were doing. No doubt you were full of clever charisma and genuine passion. There should never be any doubt in anyone's mind that you cared. I never doubted it, surely, but you made that mode of thought remarkably easy to attain, such was the way you spoke.

You were an artist regardless of what you touched, and when you didn't touch any you were an artist of life. You were going to make me a sublime Italian meal. But I'm not looking for a refund. It seems only right that I'll go through my hardships in life with a part of me still looking forward to that.