• Bluelight
    Shrine




    A memorial
    to Bluelighters
    who have passed away

RIP ektamine

Jan <3

I never met Caleb- but I feel like I know him by reading this tread.

My heart goes out to you and your family 110%.
 
^thank you.<3


Your brother turned 25 on Saturday. I know he was thinking of you. We all were.<3
 
I will always remember what you said when you were two. When you "remembered" being everything that you saw that caught your attention. You said, "When I was you, I was big and you were small. I was the mommy but you didn't have any name yet." I asked you if it felt funny to have someone inside you and you said, "No because you were always sleeping."

So I made you a valentine. It is a book cover. The book doesn't have any pages yet but it will.



Oh, and because it must be said every single Valentines day, because I miss hearing you say this so much: fuck Hallmark.
 
^I love this, Jan along with all the ways you remember Caleb. The way you've grieved for him has made me re-think the way I grieve for those that I have lost and has allowed me to appreciate the good memories a lot more. Thank you so much for that. <3
 
herbavore said:
I will always remember what you said when you were two. When you "remembered" being everything that you saw that caught your attention. You said, "When I was you, I was big and you were small. I was the mommy but you didn't have any name yet." I asked you if it felt funny to have someone inside you and you said, "No because you were always sleeping."

So I made you a valentine. It is a book cover. The book doesn't have any pages yet but it will.



Oh, and because it must be said every single Valentines day, because I miss hearing you say this so much: fuck Hallmark.
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this is possibly the most beautiful things i have ever seen with my eyes and felt with my soul.
 
Yesterday, I was driving home from some errands, up the hill and just hit the blinker to turn onto our street when I looked over at the bus stop and there you were. There you were. Your haircut, your eyes, your carriage. My heart leapt and I felt everything around me disappear--all the traffic, the radio, everything. And then I saw that it was your brother, waiting unexpectedly there for a bus. And so in this strange nano-second of time I went from out of body back into the real world ("don't block traffic, give a big smile honk and wave to your living son") and I managed to drive the two blocks to home where the storm of tears and cries could unleash. This smiling to protect others is a dangerous act. I don't do it often. I see it for what it is: soul killing. I try to cry when I need to cry but for your brother who himself tries to be so strong, I have to do it. What if I had looked as stricken as I felt and there he was on his way to work? He is so stoic and it kills me to think he is that way to protect not only us but his own terrified heart. Oh, I wish you hadn't left him. Remember how hard he tried to protect you? To protect all of us?

I think of how your young heart healed on a such a profound level when you lived in the desert. It wasn't enough at the time but it was tangible and powerful. I think I need my own desert. I think your brother and your Dad do, too. We are still stumbling around crazily down here without you. We miss you in unbearable ways, each one of us, and yet we go on. Later that afternoon a car drove past with RIP Calibong painted on the back window. It must have been Hayli.
 
Oh, herbavore, it is so hard to read your ongoing pain, and I would so wish I could ease it, even a little. But I know in my heart that what you experience will also be our fate - mine and Motherwolf's. We both cry and cry, are occasionally delusional, sure that Reuben will trip down the stone stairs or walk through the door. But if it helps you at all to know, your courage and your example have been a lifeline to both of us. The very fact that you have found a way to continue to live, to care, to help - that means so much. You do such honour to Caleb by helping others to keep breathing. God bless. I will be thinking of you.
 
I once asked a person, "Where do you find the strength to carry on?" And the person responded, "Life is a heavy burden to carry . . . but I do find strength in the ashes." "In the ashes?" I asked. "Yes," said the person. "You see, each of us is on a journey. A difficult journey. And during this journey, we may feel that we are alone. But in the process of our journey, we must build a fire – a fire for light, for warmth, and for food. When our fingers scrape the ground, hoping to find the coals of another's fire, what we often find are ashes. And in those ashes, which will not give us light or warmth, there may be sadness, but there is also testimony. Because these ashes tell us that somebody else has been in the night. Somebody else has bent to build a fire. And somebody else has carried on. And sometimes that can be enough." (Adapted from Noah ben Shea, Jacob the Baker [New York: Ballantine Books, 1989], pp. 108-113) Thanks for being there for us, herbavore.
 
Miss you Caleb!
But I LOVE YOU MORE!!!!
you are always with me.
Thank you!

ALL my love...........................skillz <3
 
Seeking Where? said:
I once asked a person, "Where do you find the strength to carry on?" And the person responded, "Life is a heavy burden to carry . . . but I do find strength in the ashes." "In the ashes?" I asked. "Yes," said the person. "You see, each of us is on a journey. A difficult journey. And during this journey, we may feel that we are alone. But in the process of our journey, we must build a fire – a fire for light, for warmth, and for food. When our fingers scrape the ground, hoping to find the coals of another's fire, what we often find are ashes. And in those ashes, which will not give us light or warmth, there may be sadness, but there is also testimony. Because these ashes tell us that somebody else has been in the night. Somebody else has bent to build a fire. And somebody else has carried on. And sometimes that can be enough." (Adapted from Noah ben Shea, Jacob the Baker [New York: Ballantine Books, 1989], pp. 108-113) Thanks for being there for us, herbavore.
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This is beautiful. Wonderful stuff. :)

Herbavore: <3 Seeking Where?: <3 Motherwolf: <3 Effie: <3
 
It is May again and today is your birthday. The world is blooming and unfurling for the second time without you. Amongst the blooms are the purple poppies, the ones that reseed themselves freely every year. They seem to have a mind of their own concerning where they will come up from year to year. This spring, they have chosen to grow right outside my bedroom window and so I wake to them each day and I enter this dream anew. I think of how often we stood looking at the same thing, you and I, blind to what the other saw. I got these seeds before you were born. A man once said to me, "You know those are opium poppies, don't you?" and I shrugged.

They were beautiful and unusual color to me. To you they were flowers first and then, with time, a drug. They are only flowers to themselves, just flowers.





Now I stand looking at this veil between the worlds. I stand on one side, you float on the other. What does life look like now? The poppies unfurl as question marks before they raise their round heads and open into airy cups that hold the trembling wind. In their sap there is oblivion, release, peace, death for those who seek it. In their frilly, pale green foliage and translucent lavender petals there is beauty for those who seek it. The poppies themselves simply flow around the wheel of the seasons, regenerating, thriving,dying; unmindful of our interpretations, our desperate needs and small comforts, without vanities or appetites of their own.

You were forever changing the way that I look at things.That was as much a delight for me as it was at times a torture. Now, the poppies bloom into Mays that no longer hold you but they hold a toxicology report that says morphine in a fatal dose. Should I see the poppies differently? I choose to see what I always saw, what i still insist stubbornly on wishing had been enough for you: delicate cups of violet and lavender that fill with each breeze, overflowing with beauty brief and fragile as breath. I know that you too, were yourself. How you saw yourself and how I saw you are mostly fiction. The fact of you, of your beauty and your brief and fragile life, is anchored just as surely in the wheel of time; and though I cannot see you any more than I can see the air, it is the shivering petals of the poppy that say, "Look. I am here. Here is where I have always been, where I will always be."



I will forever be thankful that you were born. It was a privilege to walk as far as we could walk together. I am thankful for all the new ways of seeing you continue to give me. I miss your presence: your sounds, your scent, your living being. Those are gone and yet your wisdom and your way of seeing remain. Happy birthday, Caleb.<3
 
RIP Caleb. We weren't the best of friends but I enjoyed bullshitting with you in threads and over PM.

Know you will never be forgotten, and although your death was a terrible blow to the world it influenced your mother to join Bluelight and help save/change countless lives. Your death was not in vain.

Much love and respect <3
 
Eket seemed like an amazing person, its really to bad we never talked. We didn't post to often in the same places but I had read many of his posts throughout the years, I got here a bit earlier but he was another from my generation and I absolutely hate to see the users I "grew up with" on BL leave this plane for the other side. I haven't posted in this thread for many reasons but at least with one loss we gained a beautiful elegant new user, its terrible the way it had to happen but Eket was very lucky to have such dedicated mother. I've always felt like he was one of the ones that fit perfectly in line with Hunter S. Thompson's quote, "Too weird to live, too rare to die!". I hope so much that he found the peace we all strive to seek.....:( One of the worst things is remembering that I hadn't seen any posts from him in sometime, then the thread came, you always hope they were just breaking from BL and would be back as an even better user with even more evolved posts....but unfortunately this is the nature of this scene.........
 
Such a beautiful soul, gone too soon :(

What I'd do to bring him back just to make his mom happy. I've been trying to invent the time machine for some time now, and it just never works :(

I'm just banging my head against the wall, wishing I just never existed to begin with :(

R.I.P. Caleb. Life is a painful place, just wish I could make it better for everyone. Your mom loved you so much <3
 
Two years ago today you made a decision. You made a decision to try to relax, or to change your consciousness or to push, yet again, the limitations of your body, or to find out what lay beyond your fears. These were not unfamiliar decisions for you.

Did you let go of the world or did the world let go of you? Which came first? I believe that the will to live can involve dying as the will to die is often the strongest affirmation of the will to live, a view you shared with me. Everything can be turned inside out; it may look different and yet remain itself.

Did all of your despair gather and build until it toppled, shattering into millions of bubbles of joy on some other shore? Or was it actually your joy that rose like a dark upwelling of opacity until it caught the light and held it trembling aloft for the duration of a breath or a wingbeat or a cry before folding back into opacity?


For 730 days and 729 nights I have asked to know these things and for the same amount of time I have resolved to accept never to know. All I know is that there is only one person that I want to have this conversation with and that is what I cannot have. To give up the burdens of the mind and live in the heart is to understand that there is no arrival. The insistence on answers, the limitations of narratives causes a kind of blindness. Sometimes, I choose to be blind. I beat my fists against this wall of stone demanding that it fall away. Other times, I let my hands fall open and simply lay my head against the coolness of stone until I find my breath again.

Two years ago you made a decision. I long to talk to you about what you were thinking, what you were feeling, why you changed into your board shorts but I know that I have a tendency to clutter the air with words. The best conversations we ever had were had sitting on either side of a fire under the stars, wordless conversations where we offered each other our silences, our grace, and our ease in each others company.

 
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