Human existence is often little more than the collision of senseless things, measured and rationalized...
I don’t know if you’ve ever felt the world pause for someone you’ve never met, but the weight of loss isn’t any lighter just because they’re a stranger.
It strikes me as strange—how the world mourns while someone's death is quietly loaded into the back of an ambulance, drowned out by the hum of city noise and indifference.
Meanwhile, another person's passing is exalted by the media, as if they were the architect of divinity itself.
My way of navigating loss has changed, reshaped by the relentless waves of COVID, incompetent politicians, school shootings, and more.
I'm numb to the sheer volume of loss, yet I vividly recall every stroke of sadness that has colored my life.
I've always felt shadowed by an inescapable sense of endings; Life seems like one long conclusion, softened only by small acts of hope and kindness.
I often wonder about different ages and whether I'll reach them; the answer is usually no.
Beauty turns into a bruise. Life becomes death. The ouroboros circles endlessly.
You could love someone with all you have, but sometimes things just get unbearably, unbearably bad.