I learn everything the hard way

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I learn everything the hard way
there’s something about becoming older where everything feels finite. summer isn’t endless, love isn’t eternal. you move homes, your favorite boots fall apart, your dog dies. everything feels consuming and beautiful when it is believed to be eternal. now it is all precious. everything. and there is a melancholy that comes with it.
i am both the sacrificial lamb and the executioner cutting it’s head off
i am aware of the problems. however. i would rather be comfy in my bed. good night.
thinking about this bit from an article by Ann Druyan in 2003:
“When my husband died, because he was so famous and known for not being a believer, many people would come up to me – it still sometimes happens – and ask me if Carl changed at the end and converted to a belief in an afterlife. They also frequently ask me if I think I will see him again. Carl faced his death with unflagging courage and never sought refuge in illusions. The tragedy was that we knew we would never see each other again. I don’t ever expect to be reunited with Carl. But the great thing is that when we were together, for nearly twenty years, we lived with a vivid appreciation of how brief and precious life is. We never trivialized the meaning of death by pretending it was anything other than a final parting. Every single moment that we were alive and we were together was miraculous – not miraculous in the sense of inexplicable or supernatural. We knew we were beneficiaries of chance… That pure chance could be so generous and so kind… That we could find each other, as Carl wrote so beautifully in Cosmos, you know, in the vastness of space and the immensity of time… That we could be together for twenty years. That is something which sustains me and it’s much more meaningful… The way he treated me and the way I treated him, the way we took care of each other and our family, while he lived.
That is so much more important than the idea I will see him someday.
I don’t think I’ll ever see Carl again. But I saw him. We saw each other. We found each other in the cosmos, and that was wonderful.”
Martha Gellhorn, from a letter to Robert Sherrod featured in The Selected Letters of Martha Gellhorn
— fatima aamer bilal; coffin heart? bury me.
Masahisa Fukase
- From Window
1973
The scent of green papaya (1993) dir. by Trần Anh Hùng
Jack Gilbert, from Collected Poems; “Summer at Blue Creek, North Carolina”
So much time has gone by, I didn’t know how much I would change
I think adults need summer vacation. Like let's just close down all our jobs for three months and play outside. Please. I'm so tired.
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