As gloomy as the Makati skyline was this afternoon, I received a depressing news from a friend informing me about J.'s sudden demise today from still unknown cause. He was last seen by another friend last month and J. apparently looked awfully haggard. He just planed in from Netherlands that time.

J. and I are not exactly friends. But we move in, more or less, the same circle. I don't know much about him, except that he liked to laugh and make others laugh during those times when we would play volleyball together with other friends. You can spot him easily in the group since he'd be the only one wearing kneeguard or, if not, he's known to let everyone know he's serving ball with his unusually high-pitched tone that would shame Diana Ross. Except for those few times of fun games, we wouldn't really hangout much together.

But anyhow, J.'s death came piercing through. The news pulled me back to my senses. Death really comes like a thief in the night. Sometimes, when it's kind it lets you know it's coming as if to soften whatever devastation it brings. But frequently, death is as cold and numbing as it really is. It doesn't give any hint. Like in J.'s case. So friends and family you leave behind have to endure unspeakable pain and sorrow.

What makes J.'s demise doubly sad is thinking about what fruitful life he otherwise would have had had he lived longer than his 26 years. He's so young to depart this life. But what keeps me from feeling so low is knowing he lived the way which for most other people seem unimaginable -- open, free-spirited, pleasant, affable.

So long, J. My next spike is for you!