COMA radio : m tribute - a podcast by fiv france

My great friend Michelle has gone atop the cloud's structure. She's gone and left her lungs and her impressions behind. These aren't all of the writings that I've written that have involved her. These are just the paragraphs that I've chosen to share.

After M's death, this is the only song that I could listen to. I listened to it the morning that I got the call[s] of her death. I listened to it for 2 straight solid weeks. I listen to it... & it still makes me cry.

june : 17 : 2005 : adopted mother michelle

And I just found out what has happened. You've already been missing from work for 3+ months. Out with a bad back. The reasoning for your pain the doctor's couldn't figure out. So you and they and me and everyone else. Figured it out all together. You have cancer. Sitting in it's own dumb fucking ugly rocking chair. Right next to your shell-shocked spine. I'm so sorry. I'm so sad and breaking on the inside for you. My heart won't stay inside it's normal cemented box. I cried as soon as I heard it. Hoping that I had heard it wrong. Hoping that some asshole was a sick joke teller with no morals or decency. I love you. You're one of the nicest people that I've ever met. By a far fucking long shot. You are the nicest. And I'm not turning these sentences out for the situation's sake. That type of shit is never in or on top of my agenda. I tell the truth just the way it is. And you don't deserve this. I want you to beat this so bad. Counter fucking punching your odds to their deserved death. I'd do anything I could for you. If it would make a difference. Even if it wouldn't. You were one of the only 2 there for me during the disaster period of my life. When my mother turned all of her back on me. She next to hated me. Yet you still went to lunch with me and took me to museums. You kept pushing me towards art. Both others and my own. I never got tired of you asking to see it. Asking if I did it. I'd even let you read my writings. While you waited for the assembly of my book. You taught me how to do laundry and even listened to and liked my music. You gave me advice. Tried to explain the doings of an upset parent. You listened to me always. Always smiling and accepting and loving and constantly caring. I like the way you laugh. I told you you were better to me than my own family. And you told me that no one could replace family.

june : 17 : 2005 : ...

I still can't get over it. When something is directly affecting all of my emotional triggers. I'm usually stuck with it for days. Sometimes years. It's just the way I am. I am with feelings. I do care about other's feelings. I come way over the fucking top at times. Most of the time. But you'll learn how to take me. Or at least you should. Over time.

july : 25 : 2005 : monday mode seeping through

Filling yourself with gullible gallons and thank you-ing the dumb things that people hand you in life. Could possibly be one of those ridiculous hands that you're stuck with and forced to play. Could be the only chance you'll ever have to learn and strengthen. In a dramatically different sense. It shouldn't have happened. A friend trying to stay atop the life fight with cancer. I wear Lance's LIVESTRONG bracelet. Day in and day out. Ignoring it's late fashion trend and mediad magic. I'm supporting her with a simple recognition. A $1 rubberized tribute. Injected with plenty of meaning. Plenty of love and admiration. If you can't indirectly feed off of someone else's triumphs and blood coated accomplishments. What will it say about you. What can you say about yourself. When the fire blows out. I've got a lack of follow-through. But feel at ease with my aggressive style of love. Defending to the death is the only way it can really mean something. Impacting your eyeballs with it's largely constructed structure. Taking too much of the blame. Just for the good look's sake. Wanting reassurance and a mother's overtone. Make it okay and I won't know how to handle it. Comfort, security, happiness, repetition and the safety net. Scare me the most. Chaos is in the blood. Torment and the unexpected are the drugs.

august : 07 : 2005 : m

It's true that you might need a bone marrow transplant. At some point during the rough and scuffed walk of your recovery road. I'll do it for you. Ready to fight my way to the front of the line. No matter how much pain they say is involved. No matter how crooked the needle. I'm still doing it. Doing whatever I can to help you. I love you, Michelle. I miss the sound of your heart.

august : 30 : 2005 : michelle aka meesh aka m aka adopted mother michelle

There isn't much that I can/could write. To describe the mood and sentiment and magnitude of the situation. Everyone has taken bits and pieces of their conversations with you and your family. The newest news. Is that you've been back in the ICU. In cautious coated critical condition. For almost 2 weeks now. It's hard because no one really knows what's happening to you. We don't know what it's like. To go through your days of pain and fear. I miss you. I want to talk to and hear you smile. Your son says that you'll never work again. More than likely. You'll never come back here. I want you to get better. You've hit my heart in so many ways. I've known you for so long. And you've never been anything but strong and kind and better than unique. You've got a gathering of fans. A circle of faces that love you so damn much. I love you, Michelle. I know that you'll make it past all of these struggles. Your life is still yours. And it's waiting for you to pick up the camera.

august : 31 : 2005 : michelle

While having a conversation with the smack today. Your name came up. Instantly bringing up my tears. Choking my throat up right along with it. It was hard to talk with a girl that just lost her father. Getting too caught up in the moment. All I could do was hang up and keep driving. I miss you so much. I've barely ever prayed in my life. The direct requests that I ask for never get touched. Give me a break and don't say it. I already know. I'd feel guilty if I started to now. But now is the time to stretch your limbs and reach for something bigger. Reaching beyond the normal. It's the only thing that I'll ask for. You to get better and overcome the sickness. To get a break from the hospital and it's staff. I love you. I'm going to ask for some help for you. Keep fighting, M.

september : 07 : 2005 : no progress to report

Much hasn't changed with your details. That we at least know of. You're still in the ICU. Quickly turning into one full month. I heard that an infection put you there. I hate this. You have to get better.

Cold's "God's Song" makes me think of you lately. And it sucks. There's really no positive in it. I can't help it. These are the lyrics:

A victim to another level
That no one ever cared about
The way I ease my suffering
Is killing me again
I would not prescribe this feeling for you
A pain with slow sustain
Like a sad song lives on

When the world won't take you back
You know everyone's the same
Were all a part in god's song

Can't live with this pain forever
There's nothing left to talk about
The rain outside is troubling
It takes me back again
If I can't describe my feelings for you
The game will never change
Like a sad song lives on

september : 08 : 2005 : michelle's voice kicked the cylinders out of my heart. I'm happy.

It's almost 5a and I'm still awake. By myself. Drinking alone. But I'm happy. Let that rare emotion count for something. For once. For anything. I got to hear your voice again today. Michelle. I put the time of this week into your painting. Between the full 8 hours and the overtime. I sat at my desk and put my hand & thoughts into your piece. All I wanted was your smile. Your happiness. I wanted to try and take your mind off of the pain. For as many seconds/minutes as I could steal. I loved talking with you. Listening to your voice. It was the first time that I heard you laugh. In 4+ months. The first time I got to joke around with what seemed like a semi-copy of the old you. I love you, M. You made references to the future. My heart kicked into it's notches when I heard those references. You promised to help me with my art. With the comic strip. To collaborate and give me ideas for character's personalities, etc. I'll do it. I'm done with wasting my talent. I'm not insulting anyone up to this point. I've taken everyone's advice. It's just taken me up to this point. To get a hard swung, homefront delivered, final message. I didn't promise. But I told you that I'd continue to create. To embellish with art. I told you that I wouldn't do it without you. Now you've got to collaborate with me. You gave me your word that you would. You gave me happiness with that word. Thank you.

september : 08 : 2005 : m

I was awake at 5:30a. When it started to rain. That's when I thought of you the most.

september : 20 : 2005 : Michelle sent and started off with the ideas

I'll never care if I start to sound like a broken record. You're all that I can think about today. Most days. You completely kicked the biggest dose of happiness into my day. Thank you x 5,000. You sent your personal message to me through someone else. She told me what you said. What you wanted me to know. You've been brainstorming and coming up with ideas for the comic strip. For the "South of France" strip. It takes place in France. With 5 young kids that hang out in a French cafe all day. They make fun of the people that deserve it. Anyone and everyone. Now you want me to come up with their looks. I'll make time for it and get started right away. Because that's what you want. Thank you, M. For making me happy today. I was so sad and upset and angry yesterday. My heart was bleeding for you. This comic strip collaboration means everything to me. Because it involves you. It gets you to have fun with something. To look to the future. To hopefully forget about things for a few minutes when you're gathering the ideas.

september : 29 : 2005 : you can see the point where my mind went off in a better & more important direction

Wanting to get some writing done. Spill the text from my cranium's core. I might feel better about myself. If I tell you what I've been thinking about & of myself. My punctuation is being switched to the way that I've always laid it down in my notebooks. The word "and" is being substituted with an ampersand. And the word "with" is being replaced w/this alternative. There. That's it as far as my gruesome grammar goes. Pointless and painless. But at least I've appreciated you enough to bring you up to speed. Just like my P-G boss did w/me today. He told me that his last night's conversation w/Michelle included her being upbeat about the comic strip & painting that I created for her. She was tired & sad as far as her health & situation went. But interested on behalf of everything else she felt like pitching into the conversation. She still loves the painting. Talks about it w/everyone. She's still remembering & focusing on the comic strip. My friendliest & most meaningful of collaborations. It means so much to me that you're in on this 50-50 w/me Michelle. M. I'll make you proud. I promise that I'll make you happy w/my effort and ability to keep you in on the action. I'll work as hard as I can to get it to the famous level. That's long-shot thinking. But the thinking that I'm aiming for. Being able to make money from a comic strip so I can practically give all of it to you. As an appreciation to you. A helping figure. A thank you & an I've always loved you.

For everyone that's not knowledgable of the comic strip. Here goes:

It's called "The South of France" & no, I did not come up w/that name. A friend of mine thought it up around 5 years ago. It stuck because I never had the interest to change it. I've never been interested in comic strips. But my friends always told me that I should buckle down & create one. I'm not commited enough for a weekly wacky commitment. So I ignored them. Ignored until a few weeks ago. When Michelle called to thank me for the painting. She told me that I should stop turning my back to the talent. That I should do something w/it and stop being wasteful. I listened to her because she's right. She's always right. She's always known how to influence & correctly direct me. She told me to create the comic strip. I told her that I'd do it only if she helped me w/it. And she agreed. She's responsible for the personalities and 1/2 of the content. I'm responsible for the execution and the other 1/2 of the material. And there you've got it. I tell stupid stories. But you get the idea.

So far. From M's direction. It takes place in France. With 5 young people that hang out in a French cafe all day. They make fun of everyone. Including the French. Basically. They make fun of anyone that needs & deserves it. She's still got her sense of humor. And I'm looking forward to seeing more & more of it.

Once this strip gets going. Everyone has to buy it. Family member, closest friend, enemy or not. Please buy it & let me contribute the few bucks to her & her bills/medical bills. Thank you in advance.

september : 29 : 2005 : Michelle. I tag it this way so it will never be doubted that it's about & to you

After writing about you. I feel like I'm small when I'm stacked up next to you. And I appreciate feeling that way. You're so steady & strong and walking towards everything unknown. With your head screwed on in it's highest position. I know that you break down & smash face first into your IV strings & monotone monitors. I know that you bleed quicker and more violently and more passionately than the best of them. You have been a life lesson for me. A perfectly poured rock that will never fall from my pocket's lining. I've never told you that I loved you to your face. I don't think that I ever had to. I think you knew & now know. What you've always meant to me. I want to send you everything that I've ever written about you. Past & present included. But I'm afraid to. Afraid that I'm policing my own crazy boundaries. And making the poorest of judgements. I don't want you to read the "please don't pencil my friend in to die" type of lines. But at the same time. I want you to see that the most aggressive style can impact you straight to your heart. And produce the most sincerest symphony of decibals. I'm running w/love only. This is how it sounds when it falls from my mouth.

january : 04 : 2006 : M

Thank you God. Thank you very much. For one time answering one of my rarest prayers. I just got the best news that's ever been created. The most insane fucking unbelievable news ever. Michelle is coming back to work this Monday. I don't even think that I can properly pen the calibur of this. So I won't.

february : 03 : 2006 : Michelle

I don't know why I didn't write about it until know. Trying to stay humble and keep it under my breath until now. I finally got to visit you face to face. Michelle. I got to see the face that I've loved & respected for so long now. And it's your face and your voice and your heart that I remember the most. Your thin body with your thinning hair was just a small step to lift my legs over. I love you. I wasn't afraid to look at you. I liked to look at you. Look into your sincere eyes. Your sad sunken eyes. To listen to your voice outside of a twisted phone cord. You made my Saturday. Two Saturdays ago. You made that the best Saturday of my life. Yet I was already missing you by Sunday. We spent 4 hours together. Working on the comic strip. Hooking our brains up to one another. Collaborating and splattering up your dining room table. Eating pizza. Watching 30 minutes of Wallace & Gromit. I brought all of my paintings to share with you. To let you critique and comment on them. I enjoyed your company. Fully. I didn't want it to end. But your strength gave out by mid-evening. I don't think I'll ever have the courage to tell you how much you mean to me. How much I think about you on a daily basis. I waited 3/4 of the year. Just to get to you and your hug. Just to see you again. And it was your hug that scared me. Feeling all of the bones in your thinned back. Your hug scared and moved and reassured me all at the same time. Because you're here. You're breathing and fighting and fighting still. You are here, M. Please don't leave. Don't let anything take you from us. From your family. From your friends. From your home. From this life. From your important and most inspiring position. From me. I love your friendship. Please don't want to go.

march : 06 : 2006 : after watching Coppola's "KOYAANISQATSI" this is how I felt

None of us really know anything. When we can't even relate to one another. Each other is the same. And still we cannot compromise. And love and agree and remain willing. To look at things as if they belonged to us also. Each pain is the same. And still we want our blood to sound more important. Smile and experience with each other. Enjoy and validate each other. It's okay. Unwind and embrace and untie the kinks in your neck. Beauty is still in the air. You just forgot how to look and reach for it. Start reaching for it before you forget again.

march : 20 : 2006 : everything's on tap tonight - you've come knocking on my lazy ink pen

Walking out of work with the feelings that I had. Felt terrible. Comparable to an under-the-weather of sorts. But multiplied by 50. I hope that I had left part of my heart with you. When I responed and told you that I loved you too. Finally I voiced & kicked those 3 words from my throat. Because it's true, M. You've been stapled into the lining of my heart for so long now. A free-roaming fixture. I love you so damn much. Would be plain insanity to even try and describe it's calibur. It's unnerving because I don't think I'll ever get to show you. The levels of respect and admiration that I have for you. Exactly the way that I'd like to. I want you to believe and willingly accept all of my feelings for the complete truth that they are. You are the most inspiring woman that I have ever crossed paths with. You are my steady and silent motivator. And unlike what you say. I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you for what you've done for me. I can't pin you with an IOU. That's chump change compared to what I've learned and gained from you. And you have to take this. This is truth. Straight-delievered from this immature France.

april : 10 : 2006 : I can't say goodbye

I love you, Michelle. You died this morning. I love you. I miss you.



________________________________________________

Quote: "How frighteningly few are the persons whose death
would spoil our appetite and make the world seem empty."

Author: Eric Hoffer

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