On the way down

2004-05-25 1:11 a.m.
Well, I don�t usually play the journal games. As a matter of fact, I never have. But the morbid irony of a death note has my head moving. So what the hell�

A bit of a foreword: Every time me or G. get on a plane we tell each other not to pull a Richie Valens, and if we do, we�ve sworn to recite the words to Labamba on the way down�.

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The Question: "IF your plane was about to go crash and you had time to write one quick note, to whom would you write and what would you say?"

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To whom ever the fuck finds this,

I can honestly say that I am about to die a happy man. And in burst of flames at that! If this letter doesn�t get scorched, then I would find it ironic that it made it and I didn�t.

I�ve met thousands of people from just about every walk of life, and not a single one has disappointed me. As far as I could tell, nobody ever knew where they were going or how they were going to get there but, for whatever reason, many of them decided to include me in their journey. And for that I�m the definition of a happy man, scaring the shit out of my fellow passengers while I forgetfully sing the words to an old song. I�ve talked a lot of shit, but truthfully I�ve never seen anyone as less or greater than myself � just a bunch of mindless self absorbed bastards sharing the love with each other the best they can. I couldn�t ask for a better world to live in. And if I have a last word to give, it�s to carry that idea forward.

Turn over ->

So, I'm finally done, accomplishing my final task... "LIFE" ooooh. (well and finishing this letter if I have time).

Now, as my final song, I�ll leave this as my will. Don�t waste time or money burying my remains or anything. Just dump my remains with the plane debris - it�s worth far less now that the person I once was has dissipated into the beautiful pasture that seems to get closer by the second. Give my mother, closest friends and ex girlfriends first crack at my stuff. I�d like all my photos passed on to every single person I�ve ever hugged or shook hands with, or as many as you can find. Then I want G. to sell all my shit, clear my accounts and throw the biggest, craziest fucking party ever. I want all the BBoys, DJs, MCs and Graff Artists I�ve known there, doing their thing. I don�t want a single tear to fall� not one. If any of you ever knew me, you know that�s the way for me to go� Drunk as fuck, in a ball of flames begging you to throw me one last party.

�Para Bailar La Bamba!!�