This post may infuriate some people, but I have reached my angry phase of grief with Robin William’s death. When faced with probably the most challenging role of his life, he bailed. I’ll never again watch his laughter generating antics without thinking about how he gave up on life when a large hurdle was placed in his way. He was not as brave as those child cancer patients he pretended to care so much about. His life was make believe and pretension. When it got out of his control, he threw in the towel. Nevermind all the people who loved and adored him and looked up to him as a role model. Nevermind the little cancer stricken children he had visited and encouraged . . . assuming they still lived. Nevermind anything except Robin Williams and his inability to handle a curve ball thrown by life. Last night I watched a part of “Good Will Hunting”. Robin Williams doesn’t seem so awesome to me anymore. It could be the anger I feel. Perhaps this will pass into acceptance of his death, which I believe is the next step. Perhaps I’ll just stop here. I’ve had a terribly hard life. I’ve battled depression. How dare he quit when it quit being fun for him.