One of the four horsemen of the apocalypse died. Christopher Hitchins is no longer... alive? Oh but he so is in our thoughts. ...among us? He left such a mark that no one can deny that either.
His death made a lot of people happy. The religious are rubbing their hands thriving at the thought of him burning in hell. We, whose words have planted seeds in our minds... we are happy for the life he lived. For the wonderful gifts he gave us, for the doors he opened. We are happy to once again glimpse at death and have no fear. We are looking at our life and be happy for the way we are living it.
When I was younger I used to have a character in my life I called Chris. I liked him a lot and I defined him in writing or in imaginary conversations. When I met Hitchins I realized he was talking in Chris' voice, using his words and had the same ideas. Well, maybe not so much the same but filling the gaps in my memory an all, I knew who my Chris was. And ever since, knowing he was real, I feel so much less alone in my "weird way to see life" and so much stronger in my convictions and trust in what I am and how I feel. I am less afraid to speak my mind and not give in to "respecting" the sacred consecrated stupidity.
Four days before his death I decided to tell him all that. I was going to find out where I can write to him and just thank him for everything he did and everything he was. I didn't get the chance. I am not sorry, because I know he must have gotten this message from a lot of people. This is just a way to pay my respects.
And in a strange way, I feel a little sorry the Apocalypse didn't come so I can join the army of Satan and defeat the fucking asshole of Jehovah and his minions.
As long as I live, Chris will always be alive.