I can't sleep. I got some bad news today. A person whom I've met once, but felt like I've known for ages tragically died on Monday. He was 35, leaving behind a wife and a one year old son. He was a Denver native actor, who's been living in Moscow, Russia for over 12 years. Our paths crossed oddly, so many strange connections from before we met. And on Monday he fell out of his window on the 5th floor of a Moscow walk up.
What the hell, Universe? How do we make sense of it? He felt like a special bright light in the world. And now he's gone, amongst many others no doubt. I see his face clear as day on a warm summer day. His perfect Russian, and his tainted English... I can't get his face out of my mind, and wonder how the world goes on every day with loss of people who are love, and how it all seems inconsequential. I don't mean to sound emo, but death has always given me a strange feeling I can't describe. Ever since I first experienced a loss at the age of 5. It's been the same feeling upon such news ever since. It is a reminder to treat each moment with each person as precious, but we forget so quickly, and just get carried away with the mundane worries of the day. God dammit. I miss Cazimir Liske.