By Attillah Springer
Dear Winston, the Immortal,
Now that you are gone but not really, I can say some of the things I always wanted to say to you, but could never find the words or the right moment.
On our encounters, I always felt like I was in the presence of a being who was too great to be real. The fact that you seemed so unaware of your greatness made you even more amazing. You were magical, a walking example of obeah, in the highest sense of that which cannot be explained merely with words.
A shadow is a thing that appears when the light is obscured. It is the darkness that we are, it is our truth. Dear Shadow, you were and are our truest self, grappling with the reality of darkness while holding desperately to the certainty that we are also made of light.
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