...fade to black... @sintax24 - Tumblr Blog

“Alone had always felt like an actual place to me, as if it weren’t a state of being, but rather a room where I could retreat to be who I really was.”

— Cheryl Strayed, Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail (via wordsnquotes)

#invisible +1 ..

#minus infinity #.......#1life2live4eva

Alone... with my old friend no-one.

#+1 #1-ness #no-1 2answer ..2

grief... reduced to 500 words

I never much noticed before, but now I see every roadside cross, every dent & every chink in every guard-rail. Every time I see the letter- e - every shining star- each waning moon— I think of her. I even find myself reading the death notices… I thought I knew death pretty well, but I’ve been humbled… I guess we’re just getting acquainted.

Children should never know death’s call. Unlike our eleven-month old, the half-orphan left behind & too young to grieve, my first introduction came later, through the government’s fear campaign of television ads to combat the A.I.D.S. epidemic. Images of grim-reapers, their black-shrouds & pointed-scythes, bowling balls of fate down dim-lit, smoke-filled lanes. Even so, watching the people falling like ten-pins, we never think that any of this could ever apply to us. These are the things that happen to “other people”, mere statistics, death would never chance itself on us.

I don’t know what stage of grief I’m in. If I’m truthful, it seems only to fluctuate, rather than settle. I know there are seven stages, and on some level… “we” are now- statistics. I don’t seem to have any compass in terms of “life” at the moment. Maybe I never did? Maybe I never will? There is nothing left of surety right now— the only thing of heavy sureness is that she is dead— she is gone… This is the shroud I wear. Love, reduced to hurt. Pain, all I know.

The police were loath to gift me any such details as to the particulars of how she left the world. She hit a guard-rail is all they themselves gave me. The rest I had to ascertain myself. And let me tell you— with all the pain, hurt, shock, blame, transferred-guilt, & belief-bargaining— that went on, getting to the truth was not an easy task.

Even though, early on, I so craved all & everything of the particulars; every minute detail— these things, once obsessions, faded into the after-light in the lead-permanency of reality’s dawn. A reality at once, so finite— & yet infinite at the same time… Just as life & death share their everything-dance of existential symbiosis. One cannot be without the other. Death is life & life is death. This is the reaper’s grim algebra & this is my aftermath. My feelings, “our” lives, reduced to the esoteric. Just as our own personal truth is ever evolving, so must be, our grip on life.

One day I will have to explain this away to our son, Iggy. He will have been too young to recall any memory of his mother. He will have questions of his own— concerning death & life. His maternal memory will rely on the mosaic of photographs & the second-hand, time-worn accounts of myself, & others… If no-one else, he deserves the truth— as it really was. May this be his to let serve his own evolution; may death acquaint only to serve & affirm his place… in life.

th0tvomit

“If you ever find yourself in the wrong story, leave.”

— Mo Willems

ericaelly-deactivated20251117

lora-mathis

from the zine No Mist by Lora Mathis (2017) Available here.

onlinecounsellingcollege

“Never ignore a person who loves you, cares for you, and misses you. Because one day, you might wake up from your sleep and realize that you lost the moon while counting the stars.”

— Nico Lang

Sometimes i h8 people... &... sometimes... h8red is warranted.

love Harold

What the fukk do any of yu know about heroin-?!- go fukkn try it b4 yu tell 'the world' - what yu don't know- ....

eternal fuckwits

"YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED!"

many.. have flung the word- "junky"

into the air between us-

expecting me - to wilt -to feel

-to be: ..ashamed

it has been this &

other word/"s"

& other design/"s" @

other time/"s"...

all these word/"sss" are the same

with same intentions- in mind -

& yet, every time you let

the insults- fly -

..the opposite occurs..

from a lifetime, several lifetimes-

i stop now

& pick up, all these-

..."sticks & stones"...

without

a mortgage

free

from

a life sentence

i begin

to build

a mansion

in my

caravan of a mind

& even when

i'm homeless

i am rich

..but

it is beyond you

to ever see this

4 your Christmas socks are full, so-so full.. full of-

....

you stretch

within the stratifications of a class-bound 'society'

wanting

to pity me

to feed

off of my "shame"

but

let me tell you

that even though

you may need it

i don't.

i am

a tragedy & a triumph

& when the word/"s" -"nigger" -"...." -"...." et cetera ..leave your lips-

i- take another "hit"

-catch another "shot"

-endure another "beat-down"

you- take me -"higher"

"higher"

until i am 1-foot-in-the-gutter-looking-up-at-the-stars

turn an 8 on it's side & kneel down to pray

i never asked for your prayers

& i could never be- your prey -

i refuse to feel shame

i am not your victim

for i was tragedy- finite

& i am triumph- infinite

both

-"the big-bad wolf" &

all "3 lil' piggy's"

-"9-life cat" &

-"man's best friend"

..."sticks & stones"...

can't comprehend

there are n0 "chinks"-in my armour

i've outlived my life

i've "killed" many deaths

from the gutter & the stars

i construct- crowns & thrones

kingdoms & empires

dynasties & "Beverly's"

& i give all this- 2 you

i stand

b4 nothing & everything- just the same

with zero 2 be ashamed of

& everything 2 die 4

-i hope you like the view

-from the-

"palaces" i have built for you-

"you should be ashamed."

Anonymous

"life is like sleep ...a series of dreams. as we wake from one death we are born to a new eternity... i hope death is like life and we never have to sleep to dream."