consolation prize and something inconsolable.
Eight million things. All of them small, but taken as a sum rather than analyzed as componants and then followed back to the root.........wait, none of this makes any sense without some context, some overview.
And then it happens and I sit here for ten minutes and don't have any direction to approach from. I guess I could try it anyway, but I don't know how. I don't have a door to it. I know exactly where it is, but I can't get at it.
Let me tell you all I have to say about this thing in my gut. If you're reading this and you most likely are, My heart goes out to you. I know my experience with grief, with sorrow that goes beyond any of the stuff I leave here with friends who aren't too good at it or the remorse of realizing I'm one of them. None of that garbage, but real pain and grief, my stories of it never get distilled into anecdote or song. I keep the worst for myself. I don't know how you're built, but if it is at all analog to my composition, all I'll say is that I love you and if it need come out I'm always here. If you're at your desk at lunch in fear or pain, And I can help - I will. I can't get anywhere near how you feel right now, my friend, but I can shut up and listen. I'll also respect any silence you offer without a verdict. Whatever you need...
And for the rest of you, this post was for two people only, and they're some of the best people and if you know them you're lucky and if you don't you should. You are poorer people for not sharing some intimacy with them and I pity you and leave a very odd picture from my last vacation.
Posted by Kevin at 10:28 PM