This hits really close. The timeline of grieving and how it shifts and changes. and how even when it’s not as acutely painful as it was at the beginning, it still is just grief.
Indeed. It takes a lifetime (and probably many more) to process the shit life throws at you. It is often times suffocating and remorseless in its existence.
Sometimes the hanged man (quite literally in this case) is the only recourse. To lean in and create something... Anything then let it fester and rot inside.
I (have to) believe that everything in our mental landscape is usefull in the right ammounts. Everything is a pigment from which we make our own living art. Less for the souless ultra rational "psycholodicks" to say, there is no wrong emotion, no wrong order.
Lately I've seen grief can be a ritual of honor and self sacrifice to something that had the courage to exist in this harsh landscape. That through the dark colors of pain and suffering there can be a highlight of deep appreciation for something that is more a part of you now that you can't touch it anymore.
This hits really close. The timeline of grieving and how it shifts and changes. and how even when it’s not as acutely painful as it was at the beginning, it still is just grief.
Indeed. It takes a lifetime (and probably many more) to process the shit life throws at you. It is often times suffocating and remorseless in its existence.
Sometimes the hanged man (quite literally in this case) is the only recourse. To lean in and create something... Anything then let it fester and rot inside.
I (have to) believe that everything in our mental landscape is usefull in the right ammounts. Everything is a pigment from which we make our own living art. Less for the souless ultra rational "psycholodicks" to say, there is no wrong emotion, no wrong order.
Lately I've seen grief can be a ritual of honor and self sacrifice to something that had the courage to exist in this harsh landscape. That through the dark colors of pain and suffering there can be a highlight of deep appreciation for something that is more a part of you now that you can't touch it anymore.
Still, shit fucking sucks.