Oompa,
I'm sorry we never really got to know each other. I'm sorry that you had to endure the pain you did. Regardless if you believe in God or not, what you were going through was sheer hell.
I'll keep this short, I won't eulogize you too long, 'cause I can kind of detect that you'd hate that. You were a son of a bitch that was my kind of guy. When it came to religious stuff, we were in the same mudhole. But your personality gave us hope. With your wit and humor you gave us hope of life. And for those of us who walked past the Watchtower's walls, that's a comfort only you could've appreciated.
Anyway, brother, if your death serves any purpose it's that we need to realize HERE AND NOW. I've thought long and hard about doing what you did. more than some people would feel comfortable acknowledging.
You were, as Hunter S. Thompson said, "too weird to live, too rare to die."
I'm sorry you felt the pain and I can't offer you anymore than a shot of good whiskey. And if you really knew me, you'd know that means the world.
save a seat for me,
Mr. Falcon