It was reported just recently (and I mean, like, within the last couple of hours) that comedian and actor Robin Williams was found dead today at the age of 63, likely of a suicide. Details on his death are cloudy at best, with many sites simply spouting rampant speculation, so I will not talk about his death, but his life, or more specifically him impact on mine.
Despite what some people might say, Robin Williams has always been entertaining, at least as far as I can tell. I enjoyed even his worst movies because he was there to lift the films' spirits, and his ability to light up a room with just that exuberant, fun-loving, kinda cheeky smile of his is legendary. He was a young soul trapped within the body of an aging man, and yet he never seemed old in any of his recent appearances, including his recently cancelled sitcom The Crazy Ones. His performance as the Genie in Disney's Aladdin, despite the problems that Williams himself took away from the role, is one of my favorite things ever, and I have been sad for years that he hasn't been doing more with his phenomenal talent. I can only hope to bring even a fraction of the joy to others which Mr. Williams has over the years.
All of this is sad enough, but it seems that Williams' death may have been related to depression, something that I find hard to imagine. It hurts me just to think that someone who seemed to fun-loving and happy could be in that kind of pain. I have suffered depression before. It guts you. Hearing that Mr. Williams may have been suffering depression for years tears me up inside. We must all strive to prevent this loss from overshadowing the happiness and joy which Mr. Williams stood for all of his life.
Robin Williams will be sorely missed, by myself and millions of others. Rest in peace, Mr. Williams. You will never be forgotten.
Lovely
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