parting is such sweet sorrow

one of the things i hate the most is when friends grow apart, and it's especially annoying when you see the process happening. slowly, like a decrepit thing, all the life of the friendship ebbing away in the floes of time.

we've all probably experienced it in some form or another. just having geographical or cultural borders, people moving farther away than you can care to keep in touch, or even having that one or many changes in respective lives to make the relationship too much of an inconvenience. or worse. but parting (as much as the opposite) is the norm of life, and i would be naive (how the eff do you make the double dots on the i?) to partake in the illusion that such things are everlasting (even though i do recall telling my niece such lies :/ )

in any case, such an event has happened (or due to the chronic nature of how it happened, i should use the phrase continually deteriorated) recently in my life, and it just reminds me of mortality; how fleeting our existence is and how dynamic people are. personally i find the loss of such 'change', as my friend aptly put (although i must admit he is probably just mockingly asserting barrack obama), quite annoying, and i do strive to make sure it doesn't happen. but we must all learn to cut our losses before they become malignant, festering scars - in some case more literal than figurative.

i write this entry, heavily and probably more a textwall to the readers, than my usual flavour, but consider it a musing to myself, which i will hopefully retroactively reflect upon in the future. however, should you have braved the torturous roads of text, and are willing to swim the tumultuous emotions that may have plagued you at a point, do share in a moment of silence that i dedicate to mourn all the persons who have let fall from our lives; a line for the forgotten:

"to the friends i left behind,
the souls that have shared my pains, and glories,
the bros who had my back,
and Mercutio, who has left the sight of eyes but not mind,
who has left the living, but only because of the knife that stabs him is my own,
oh, speak to me and call me brutus 'Et tu, Brute?' "

and for this i apologise