A friend died yesterday. A friend I never met in person, although we talked of meeting quite often, but a friend nonetheless.
Jan Hallers lived life like most of us only dream of: on his terms, by his rules. He stayed outside of everything he didn't want to be in the middle of, but was directly in the middle of everything that was important to him. He was the best kind of weird.
My favourite story of his had him taking his empties back to the depot for the deposit, wondering why the streets were so empty, and why the depot was closed when he got to it. He completely forgot it was Christmas Day.
We shared a love of art and music , literature (especially the writing of +Charles Bukowski
), and wine. Oh so much wine. Tonight I drink to you, Jan. Tonight I drink like you would drink, and howl at the moon to see it shatter.
RIP Jan. RIP Ponder. RIP old friend. You are loved and missed.