I haven't posted up in a really long time. The words have dried up. My friend Sean died two weeks ago. He took his own life. He was facing a prison sentence. I never thought I could hate the prison system more than I already did. But it is possible. Because they took Sean away. They took this really beautiful infuriating sweet rude soul out of this world.

I met Sean on new year's 1999. I rang in the new millenium with him. We spent a lot of time working closely together on the Free Mumia Coalition happening in Portland then. And a lot of time hanging out in his basement studio watching his friends freestyle drunk over his beats. He and his friend Raymond drove me crazy at the time. I called them pigdogs, because they would be so jacked up about women. But they were always sweet and respectful to women they knew. I had actually decided not to talk to either Sean or Raymond when I moved to Philadelphia. Then Sean callled me and told me that Raymond had gotten arrested for robbery. Ray ended up doing 8 years. It was an honor to get to see Raymond grow and change, become the human being he always was and always meant to be. But I also saw how Sean grew and changed. Seeing Sean with Raymond made me know I loved Sean as a human being, despite all his faults. He was there for all 8 years. Though he was doing a million things out in the world, running his own business, having serious accidents, he was there for Ray. And when Raymond got out I've never seen another human being happier than I saw Sean when Raymond walked through that gate. Raymond said a couple of days ago that Sean couldn't help being a jerk, so he made up by being the best friend to those he loved. And it's true. He drove me crazy and we'd argue like cats and dogs. And at the end he'd say, "All right, Waleeders, I'll call you tomorrow." And I hated when he called me that. And I wish I had known it was going to be the last time I would be called that. And I wish I could hear it again. And I wish I didn't understand so well why Sean did what he did. And I wish we lived in a world where that wasn't a real everpresent option for people. And I know I haven't done Sean justice in this disjointed fractured words. I don't have any words left. None at all.



The night I met Sean and Raymond, New Years Eve 1999. The first but not the last time I saw Sean passed out on their dirty couch.



New Years Day 2000. Sean and me



Sean, Nadia and me. All of these are New Years Day pictures. The beginning of a friendship with Sean that would last 8 years on this planet, and longer in whatever comes after.









Sean and me in SF in 2004.