Monday, March 08, 2010

Will I Lose My Dignity?


I had an interesting weekend. The delays with the house continue. I have no words for my frustration anymore; it is stressing me out to the core. I know it will all be worth it, but the process is enough to make me gouge my eyes out.

In a surprising turn of events, I came in contact with some shocking news regarding a friend of mine who I had not seen in a long time. I realized that I had not seen him in quite some time and his cell phone had been disconnected, but he had been talking about moving to Southern California and I figured I would eventually run into him. (We had some friends in common, but no one had mentioned him in a while.) I had put in a friend request on his Facebook page, but he had not responded in almost a year. I googled him the other night thinking I might come across some information or some update on where he was at these days. Instead of a news article or an address hit coming up, a TruTV web page comes up with my friend’s name and a mugshot. He apparently was involved in a murder in Southern California and is facing the possibility of life in prison without parole.

I was (and am still) in a state of shock. I have never had to deal with anything remotely like this at any point in my life. Granted, I was not super close with this guy. But to think that my friend could be involved in such a heinous plot and crime is stunning. He is young (not yet 30), very good looking, and has a magnetic personality that draws people to him. It seemed like the world was his oyster.

Two different sets of thoughts have been dominating my head since hearing the news. My first group of thoughts center around who my friend really was or is. I get that we are all complex people and, depending on stressors or substances, can do things that one would not ordinarily do. However, the premeditation and brutality of this crime suggest that there was more to it than a drunken or drugged misunderstanding. The memories of my friend involve us grabbing coffee, shooting pool, or hanging out at Dolores Park. He was complex, a little vain, but never anyone I thought to be capable of something like this. He wanted things out of life, but no more so than anyone else who lives in San Francisco and is sick of sharing an apartment. I have these scenarios running through my head of me being the relative or friend being interviewed on Oprah saying, “He always seemed so normal. This is not the person I know.” Along with these thoughts come accompanying feelings of guilt. In reconstructing the timeline, I realize that I brought both G. as well as his co-defendant to a Christmas party of some good friends after the murder, but before he was arrested. Considering the line of work I am in (and that most of the party-goers were in), it is such a weird, fucked up situation that they would have even agreed to go.

The second set of thoughts is sadness and remorse; sadness for what could have been for my good looking young friend as well as remorse for my friend’s ridiculously stupid actions and the lives he has shattered with this senseless murder. I also feel like I am mourning for all of the things he may never get to do. For someone like me, being in prison would be akin to a death sentence. I am restless all the time, always planning and always wanting to see and experience different things. If someone cut off my ability to do that, I cannot imagine what my life would consist of. Being locked in a cage with no hope of escape for the next sixty plus years seems ridiculously horrific. I suppose these are the challenges he is facing as he contemplates the realities of his life. What meaning or inspiration can one take from a life like this? Finally, I am so sad that it took me over a year to find out this information. He was a good friend of mine and I believe his parents are in another country, so I do not know what kind of support system he has in place. Without Internet access or a cell phone with numbers, I can only imagine how scary and isolating the world must be for someone of our generation. Navigating the world of prison must magnify this bewilderment.

I am writing my friend a letter this week and hoping to hear back from him. If nothing else, hopefully a note from a familiar voice will help him put a smile on his face even for a moment. It definitely made my house problems seem insignificant in comparison.

Hope everyone had a good weekend. Cuidate.

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