I wrote the last entry five days before it was published, and in hindsight I would have done it differently. It sounded pessimistically upbeat, but when the moment of travel arrived, I felt no such thing. My wonderful friend Jörgen, who loved Go as much as I do, my travel partner to many tournaments, and one of the most curious and thoughtful people I have known, left the world of the living only a day before I went here. He was very ill for a long time, and although he was quite open about it, it was easy to miss for those who were not close to him. He did not complain. Only a week before he passed, he, his brother and I, spent a whole evening playing and discussing Go. He popped a painkiller halfway through the evening, stating ”I am with you again soon”. Perhaps I was the one who got tired first.

Jörgen had a special jörgenesque way to approach problems, of all sorts; holding them up to the light and slowly turning them around, then keeping the problem fixed and moving the light, thus finding sides and aspects that one might otherwise have missed. And, without ever descending to conspiracies. Speaking of conspiracies, and people who hold them, I have had this theory for a long time, that (especially) men who were considered intelligent and capable in their teens and early twenties, have the potential to become the most stupid of all. (An insight born partly from introspection) That a combination of intellectual pride, high self esteem, not accepting that which they have not checked the details of themselves, excellent rhetorical skills, general arrogance, and a fear of becoming irrelevant, or appearing conventional, turns sour later on. Jörgen had nothing of that. He invented and shed ideas at an incredible rate, seemingly without becoming truly emotionally attached to any single one of them. He was at home in the world of ideas. I am no longer able to think about anything for long, before I wonder what Jörgen would have said about it.

When I asked him about his profession, he preferred to be seen as a ”förtydliggörare”, as someone who makes the picture sharper; the obscure clearer. And, as far as I can tell, this was a fair description of what he actually did, at work. However, privately, I think he was better at making the complex even more complex until the moment where you completely lost your direction. He excelled at both ends of that spectrum.

I wish more people had known him as I did. I will sorely miss him.