There are still only really two people who I cannot fucking believe are dead, who (if the world was appropriately just, secure and self-centred) should never have outlived me, who make me furious at mortality in general when I remember that theyapos;re dead. These are my granddad and John Peel. That there are only two probably qualifies me as Too Damn Young.
Who are yours?
I have, intermittently, dreams about Granddad. In the dream I know that heapos;s dead, and he does too, and there isnapos;t really anything to say: itapos;s shit and thereapos;s really nothing that either of us can do about it, and we both know this.
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