I explained it to someone last night like this:
"We are all just standing there, breathing shallowly, and over here is his body like some invisible thing, the shell of Heath left to be buried, just waiting until it is finished so we can breath, make noise again, speak coherently."
The anticipation of memorial services, burial, on the otherside of the world from where he died. I wondered aloud if any of my friends and acquaintances in Australia lived in Perth, as I understand there is not much near Perth.
And the containment, I cannot get past, I was here before him, I am still here, and I know what he will miss.
My mind is still trying to put a stamp of humanity on celebrity worship, trying to make sense of the meatless statement Mary Kate Oleson issued. What should one expect from a plastic automaton who derives a handsome living from being a personality? Pathetic, the way these people live their lives.