Darkness with an empty smile.

Tunes in my head: Wearing the Inside Out by David Gilmour
Atmosphere: Empty


So yeah. Realising someone's actually pretty just because you sat down and had a decent conversation is pretty awesome.

--

Leaving was never quite my proud.

The sudden nature of life saddens me, I guess. One day something can be there, the surest, most stable thing in the world.

Last year, Richard Wright died. He seemed an institution of the English music scene. Someone who would seemingly always be there in the shadows, adding delicate piano licks or whirling organ chords or searing Minimoog solos.

Little did we know that he was battling cancer for a long period of time, and probably only embarked on the last tour with Gilmour knowing that it would be one of his last.

Do we understand what we truly have until it's gone?

Sometimes. The audiences at this final tour were so appreciate of him, giving standing ovations at every show.

It's nice to actually embrace it on occasion.

But still, we have our things torn from us. And it really does destroy the human psyche when it happens.

I cried when he died. I'm not ashamed at all to admit that. This sarcastic extrovertness and the very real introversion that he exuded was something I felt I could truly empathise with.

Do we really know what we have until it's taken from us?