Off-Topic: Living at Full Volume

Instead of going to a club and having fun, I went to a wake tonight.

When I woke up this morning, I would've preferred to have a few pops and hear some good tunes; but I'm actually grateful to be reminded how precious every breath of life is.

There were so many mysterious layers to this situation that could fill a novel, but I was especially struck by the sudden death of this man who was originally from Haiti.

There has already been too much sadness in every Haitian family this year, yet it was cathartic to see so much real emotional outpouring.

I felt luckier than everyone else on the train home, because they didn't seem to appreciate the value of the moment.

I've often wanted to retreat in the face of profound sorrow, but tonight implored me to face the sadness and use that energy for something positive.

I also kept thinking about this poem by Dylan Thomas, and I hope to live until my last day.

DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.