A black and white picture - the finality of it.

Tonight was supposed to be quiet, relaxed, reflective. I have the company of my laptop. I hoped to write. I hoped to be writing anything but this. It is a quiet night. It is one that is causing me anxiety. It is reflective. Just not the reflections I hoped for.

Williams just sent me a black and white picture of Brian and it had that look that you recognise before you read the words. Rest in Peace, 1994-2025. In true Williams fashion, the message he followed the picture with was "This man is dead". We have been reflecting together, trying to understand, but what is there to understand about death? What is there to understand when a 31 year old ball of energy just abruptly stops rolling? I see Brian that way. The only time I saw him still was in the pictures we took. Every other time, he was in his waist coat, walking about like the only man with a mission, the vision and the keys to unlock whatever needed to be unlocked. He was fixing, crisscrossing the wires in his head and your head, but fixing. So, Brian Ainebyoona, is gone. Kashari.

Whoever is reading this, I want you to look at this man and know that he was his own man, random, excellent, confusing, intriguing, busy - because you cannot say Brian without busy, a fixer, a doer, a go-getter. The man genuinely cared about what he did. He was one of his own kind. I have truly never met anyone like him. So I am reflecting. Brian, as I knew him, was a kind man. He was a hardworking man. He, in his suits and ties and THE WAITSCOAT, was always impeccably dressed. Brian looked out for you. I left NTV, Brian reached out and every so often, we exchanged a message or two. He left NTV, I reached out and every so often we exchanged a message or two.

Life allows us these meetings with these people we laugh with and make memories with, And then one day, life sends you a random reminder to send them an inside joke you both will get, a google photo memory that pops up of the two of you, they randomly cross your mind and you think to thank them once again for a thing they did, maybe you do, maybe you don't. And then one day, not too long after, the message comes in.

A black and white picture A date that speaks to the finality of it all. Rarely is there an immediate explanation. You must wonder, you must find answers. I hate when the answer is long periods of illness that you did not know about because ahhh, what a terrible friend you were to not know! I hate when the answer is anything at all because what were you going to do anyway. We must make peace, but gosh, how is Brian gone? That ever rolling ball just stopped? I didn't see it coming. Maybe because I had been out of touch for too long.

Rest well my friend. You will be buried the day I was born. We had really good times.