You had the type of flair that turned the middle of a week into an end – we all stopped what we had going on to drop acid with a traveler of the world – the knowledge you had to offer was supplanted by our attempts to teach Yoda how to ride your skateboard – speaking of that thing you were the only person never to look stupid riding one – the kick push glide lifestyle suited the way you handled things – you’d come into a room get comfortable usually by stretching those long ass arms halfway across the space and only then start talking – I’ll miss your voice it was smooth and deep – wheels on fresh concrete – your words took everybody around wherever your wanted them to go – immersive stories endless experiences – you’re gone now yeah there’s wasted potential but you did so much – you made sure of it – the person I knew you to be was an explorer – charisma so strong that you got bored of people and went after the world – no doubt in my mind given the time you’d have charmed the planet – made a mockery of us all and we’d laugh along because no one could help themself when you started to chuckle – I’m not usually vulnerable to death – desensitization does that – but you leaving has me fucked up – we weren’t the best of friends and the only material proof I have of our association isn’t even that – you insisted we connect on LinkedIn and endorse each other’s skills – ‘We have to support each other’ you said to me – I didn’t forget before you were gone and there’s no chance of that now – maybe it was an excuse for you to bum cigs off me but if so that was a bad plan because you always had more to give – I wish I could ask – instead all I have is the you in my thoughts – the replays – echoes – sounds that would be sweeter if I had yet to speak them – I don’t like thinking of you as gone – when you come to my mind it’ll be as the friend who offered me smokes when I didn’t have my own – smiling in the sunlight while idiots try to force an English Bulldog onto a skateboard – telling a story taking up a whole couch entertaining us through the recovery from the night before – you left your mark on me Ayman and I’m thankful for that.
Vincent Santino Smarra 