Amidst a little chronic fatigue

I just received news that a middle school classmate of mine ZC had "committed suicide". The first thing I sought to clarify was whether he has really succeeded in taking his own life, or had it remained an attempt since. I guess a training in science and logic does help also to differentiate a little the subtle nuances of the emotional aspects of life. Or the clarification could have arisen from the inherent analytical attitude towards the symantics of a non-native language. Or, perhaps the truest of all reasons, from disbelief, like - somebody actually died? Somebody I know died? That couldn't have been. No, it simply doesn't happen. But the answer was the former, so it did.

The first person whom I know who sort of died was my grandpa, but grandparents don't die in sensational or haunting ways. It's probably because grandparents don't die from taking their own lives. I've brooded before on what it'd feel like to see a stranger or someone I know die, from an accident or from disease, stuff that isn't within control of the scientists. There'd be warm, fuzzy, teary feelings of wanting to do some good to the entire world, bitterness plus afterward grumpiness and complaints, or indifference. But there's something silent and scary with suicide, like there was anger and despair was directed at the entire world, like people are to blame. It's easy to associate more than I should with ZC, his face springing out with obscure forces from layers of years with vivid details - the slightly greyish eye-glasses, the weak moustache, the tender Suzhou vocal and a huge wai4 ba1 zi4 gait. Questions that should never be asked are, for eg, what did he look like when he..? And, by the way, how? No, that'd be the wrong way to go. Everything I worked hard to keep together would fall apart in no time and it's a choice of my own. Thoughts should instead help transform the memories to don grandparent-qualities. For eg when you're in a hole, you don't dig deeper. There's always a way out, over, under or around in life. It's never worth ending it. Treasure and appreciate the goodness in people around you and you will never be alienated. Put on some Michael Jackson music and look hard at the redness of the Gala apple on the table. Slowly, as I know it would, the eagerness to call ZK and blabber some stupid things subsided. The icon of SciFinder Scholar (R), one of the symbols of stress and enmity that are slowly transforming into objects of utility and rapport, regained its familiarity and lost its threatening look in this religious moment.