In The End

Thoughts on Chester Bennington, Baltimore, and the Juxtaposition of Time

Ben B.
Ben B.
Jul 24, 2017 · 4 min read

There will be many differences between this week and next. The beautiful city of Baltimore has treated me quite well through the past few months. And approaching the end of this chapter is bittersweet.

I was tempted, in this week’s edition, to write about how it feels to be approaching, yet again, another juncture in my professional development. Yet, in tandem with such temptations, I was also compelled to write about the tragic story of Chester Bennington, Linkin Park’s lead singer, who died on July 24th. The connection between these happenings is, naturally, not obvious. But, I’ll attempt, here, to flesh out my thoughts on how my early days have impacted where I stand, and where I’ll go.

Years ago, when I still lived on Wilderton Avenue in Montreal, Quebec, I spent hours headbanging to Linkin Park’s first album, Hybrid Theory. My favorite bands, at the time, consisted of Metallica, Nirvana, In Flames, At The Gates, and Linkin Park, among other punk and metal bands. Compared to the kids at my elementary school, my musical likings were different. I never really got into Blink 182 or that kind of stuff. I found their music boring — it didn’t get me going like the sound of Chester Bennington’s heartfelt scream in One Step Closer.

If I had the emotional depth at that time in my life, I could’ve noticed that Bennington’s lyrics were melancholic, sad, and hopeless. He expressed things that a child should not express. And, although I couldn’t understand the meaning of his words, it’s now that I realize that they served as gateways toward understanding the complexity of human emotion. Things are not as black and white as we’d like for them to be. Even if I recognize, now, that I don’t share Bennington’s emotional makeup, I can certainly empathize with it. Needless to say, it’s hard to see him go.

Just yesterday, as I was driving by Clifton Park in East Baltimore, I couldn’t help but notice a surge of melancholia flow through my body. I ran hundreds of miles on these streets, in order to prepare for my first marathon. This is where my journey as an American citizen took shape. In some ways, my identity — legally speaking — was reborn here. To leave this place, once again, isn’t easy. But it’s necessary.

When I came back home, I was freed from the anxiety of restlessness that had affected me throughout most of the weekend. Perhaps it was the effect of merely driving in Baltimore, without any particular purpose, that slowed the wheels of my mind. It’s hard, at this age, to learn when to sprint, when to jog, and when to walk.

I played music during my drive, at first, to distract me. The songs — in particular, Mount Kimbie’s recent single — grounded me in the now. That’s one of the many unique features of music. It captures attention, without freezing it. It allows for thoughts to come and go, without dictating their general direction.

It’s funny, as I write these words, I know how many people out there know the lyrics of In The End by heart. I’m not endowed with the ability to remember lyrics after hearing a song for the first time. But that song is among a few that is engraved in me. I can even remember the cheesy music video that was released for it. Although, in retrospect, the whole thing was objectively pretty bad, it has become an important childhood memento.

Right?

With respect to Bennington’s death, I’m at a loss for words. He and Linkin Park were integral parts of my childhood development, and I know I’m not the only person out there to feel as such. In honoring him, I’ll attempt to continue understanding the many forces that have pushed me forward over time. Most importantly, I’ll try to use this understanding to protect myself against the countless risks of life. It’s strange to see important figures go. If anything, this slow process has only started. However, in everybody’s passage, there’s something to amass, remember, and learn from. In Bennington I see much more than his end, I see his struggle. I will try to fight what got him there.

Rest in peace, Chester Bennington.

Ben B.

Written by

Ben B.

Fier d'être québécois. Committed to making the world a healthier place. Family and friends first. Love, freedom, and progress, in that order.

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