Goodbye Robin Williams

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Early in the 20th century, there was a famous clown named Rinaldo. He made everyone laugh, and was known all over Italy. Rinaldo was his stage name, however, and when he sought the services of a psychiatrist, he made an appointment under his real name.

"What can I do for you?" asked the psychiatrist.

"I have been depressed for years," said Rinaldo. "I have lost my love for life, and lately it has gotten so bad that I want to take my life. Can you help me?"

"Well, laughter is the best medicine," said the doctor. "There is this clown named Rinaldo, he makes everyone laugh. Why don't you go to one of his performances?"

"But doctor, I am Rinaldo!" replied the clown.
 
I feel really bad about it. You get the feeling the world was so mean he couldn't live in it any more. You'd think that maybe after living among us for 63 years he might have become reconciled somewhat to his feelings of incompatibility and his regrets; that he might have developed a certain degree of comfort with himself.

Every time I hear Pavarotti sing on the radio I get this feeling of sadness (and I guess, loss) that he is no longer with us and that something unique left the world forever when he died. I got the same feeling when I heard that Robin Williams died.
 
Yes, qwerty, one would think that eminent personages like them would be able to liberate themselves from depression. But, alas, they don't, or not always. It seems twice as sad when we lose them to suicide. And what a horrid suicide it was, Robin Williams must have been in the deepest depths of despair.
 
Secret Cinema, an international group who do these amazing interactive experiences based around movies did a tribute to Robin Williams a la Dead Poet's Society, proceeds going to a charity

 
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