Finally two cents of my own…
Words cannot describe the profound sadness that’s within.
From the lost cave-man/cave-child in Jumanji who captivated a certain boy’s imagination during the time when he was coming to terms with his parents’ divorce, to the damaged but exceedingly caring professor in Good Will Hunting, Robin Williams has used these performances, and pretty much everything in-between for that matter, to become a source of inspiration and a forceful presence in what is now a young man’s acquired love and appreciation of comedy, and life in general.
To someone who’s been so deeply affected by his works, it’s hard to accept this unfitting end of a true artist with genuine class and talent. It’s even harder to imagine the moments leading up to his inevitable end, and against all the on-screen fun loving personas that he’s portrayed (such as the army DJ in Good Morning Vietnam), the pain and suffering within that drove him into such lunacy and ended with the ultimate price.
An utterly unjustified end to an unbelievably generous hero…
I grew up with him. We grew up with him. And as much as one loathes his later years’ career choices (Old Dogs? Get it together man!), one cannot help but love him as a person, for he was the constant reminder that it’s okay to be odd and a little weird and whacky and vulnerable and imperfect and excessively hairy, we all deserve to love and be loved.
I am extremely honored to have lived in the same city as him for better part of the past five years (San Francisco), and am still secretly feeling crazy awesome and cool about our shared hobby of cycling.
Thank you Mr. Robin Williams, you crazy hairy bastard.
For all the memories of me laughing while watching you on-screen. R.I.P