A[n assuredly teary] Farewell

There are many issues going on in my life. My family is topsy turvy, I feel alone and disconnected from those around me, and I finished watching the first season (and therefore entire series) of Firefly and now feel rather down as I feel like there will never be a TV show nearly as well-written, frantic, nor brilliant such as those 14 diamond-esque episodes created by Joss Whedon. The previous sentence probably speaks the truth anyway; I doubt there's anything that'd beat Firefly. Serenity could possibly equal it. Maybe. 


But today, I don't want to write about that. No, I want to dedicate this post to one Benjamin James Reed. It's not likely that Ben will Reed this blog (< u c wut i did thar?), nor that he would really care if he were to do so, but I feel it appropriate to do so anyhow. I've known Ben since the fourth grade, but only really became friends with him in the fifth, I think. Suddenly a few days ago a whole bunch of us find out that Ben's leaving for some reason. I can tell you it took most, if not all of us by surprise.  I'm not going to drag this on because then it'd be like a eulogy; that would be rather disconcerting. I'm going to miss Ben, that's pretty much how I can sum it up. He's a sane person in an insane world. Somehow, admirably, Ben manages to fit in with all sorts of cliques, whether it be the underestimated, the modest, the popular; yet he retains his brains. That's why I know he'll do fine in Perth.


I'll admit I don't know Ben nearly as well as I did two years ago. What I do know of him is that he hasn't changed all that much, apart from doing what teenagers do: he's still hella-tall, he's a fantastic cricketer, his back is always getting injured, he has an undying love for loud music and instruments, he's a hell of a lot more intelligent than he prefers to admit and overall he's a damn good friend to cap it all off.


I wish you good luck in that far-off land of bogans, Ben. Later bro, we'll all miss you.