A few weeks ago, a high school friend of mine was killed in a hit and run 10 min from my apartment here in LA. Today was her funeral in NY.

Since I'm out here in LA, I decided to go to the site and pay my respects there.

When I got there, I couldn't stop thinking about how her life ended on some random street in Koreatown.

It wasn't a significant place to her. Could have been her only time there. 33 years for all of it to just be over with in a city far from home, on an irrelevant street.

She never harmed anybody. One of the kindest humans ever. And just like that - gone. She didn't deserve that. Her family didn't deserve that. No possible way there was a reason for this.

Life is short. Life is crazy. It's hard for me to believe there's a meaning to all of this