Good Grief

A place to talk about grief and other little sad parts of life. You're not alone <3

[dziady]

“I prayed and fasted. I read the mystics. I studied the martyrs. I began to think I was someone thirsting for God.”

— Anne Carson, The Anthropology of Water (via antigonick)

[lostpoemsandcoffee]

To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.

- Oscar Wilde

here’s a dark/chaotic academia inspired playlist

[teddy-stonehill]

This month I’ve decided to participate in an event called “October,” where for every day in October I’m going to experience a day in October.

Here’s the prompt list I’m using in case anyone wants to join me in this challenge:

Next month I’m thinking of trying out the “No November November” challenge, where I’ll refrain from experiencing November for the whole month of November.

[blackcraft66six]

It’s too late to be grateful It’s too late to be late again It’s too late to be hateful The European cannon is here

David Bowie, Station To Station. Christiane F. – Wir Kinder vom Bahnhof Zoo, 1980.

[frontpagewoman]

[therealmickrock]

Thinking about David’s death today, I came across something I wrote some 30 years ago, reflecting on my Ziggy Stardust photos:

“I experienced Bowie above all as a piece of living artwork, constantly modulating and mutating like a series of startling reflections in a cracked mirror. He was fascinating: Ziggy Stardust was a new breed of rock n’ roll operative, a rogue hitman with his own agenda, a post-moderrn heartthrob with destiny on his mind, a dreamer of dada with glitter in his soul. He was the Scarlet Pimpernel in fabulous drag. He was what the times needed and a whole lot more.”

Yes, David. You were definitely what we needed and much, much more. God bless. xxx

[915419-deactivated20211216]

Forever and Ever 

[macrolit]

“It is sometimes an appropriate response to reality to go insane.”

— Valis, Philip K. Dick

[apriljinxed]

Haunt

This city feels so cold

I walk her streets faceless

Trying to remember all the wrong turns

That delivered me here

I cry and beg

To go home

As if I ever had one

I’ve only ever lived in borrowed houses

I try

To settle into cavernous silences

I tell myself I’ll be okay

But no matter where I run

My heart still sifts through my fingers

Pulverized into dust

I try to do what’s expected

But it feels fraudulent

I try do do what’s right

But it feels lonely

I try to build something

From all this sorrow

But how can I build a home out of ghosts?

[goodandgrief]

So freaking beautiful of a poem. All credit to the wonderful writer

[whatbigotspost]

If this resonates with you at all PLEASE, for your benefit, go read this tweet thread on “fawning”

Oh my god i finally have a word for it….

[whatbigotspost]

There’s such enormous power in naming and understanding things, isn’t there 🙏

[deftonesdick]

Oh shit

[drumsanddogtags]

The tweet author also made this into an article, available here.

[whatbigotspost]

Thank you for sharing that link!

Lots of peeps on this post have asked things like “so what do I do about this?” which the twitter thread gets into but I know many will find the article more readable and it expands further and has additional resources. Check it out!

People-pleasing can be a result of trauma. It’s called ‘fawning’ — here’s how to recognize it.

“I avoided those relationships where love was free and easy. Because it didn’t feel ‘earned,’ so I didn’t feel worthy.”

[rebel-heart-gypsysoul]

[unspokengrief]

I am the flicker of a cigarette, the last ember, my mother’s rage, whatever you call a living thing that burns. I live like an open flame that is ready to ignite at anytime, we all forget that open flames are the start of all wild fires but not me, I know all about the catastrophric effect of wild fires, I am my mother’s daughter after all.

— Hannah Green, from “Would You Burn For Me?”

[chaoticwhiteboys]

[skull-designs]

“ Yes, I have ghosts, not all of them dead / And they dance by the moon, millstones white as the sheet on my bed “ David Gilmour / Yes, I Have Ghosts.

St Mary’s, Long Ditton, Surrey.

[rel8able-lyrics]

"Why do I run back to you, like I don't mind if you fuck up my life?"

- "Monsters" sung by All Time Low (featuring blackbear)

[danger]

[amikoroyaiart]