Aug. 30th, 2020

pearwaldorf: "are we ever sure what we have is ours" in red neon against a black background (misc - ours)
Unsurprisingly, it's not been a great couple weeks for mental health. Between Jacob Blake, murders of people at protests for Jacob Blake, and everything else that is life as usual in 2020, it has not been amazing. I feel like it hasn't been this bad in a while. 

And of all the things that feel like a truly gratuitous kick in the teeth, it's Chadwick Boseman's death that makes me want to lay on the floor and not get up for a long time. It's not just a matter of grief, but that my brain is having a hard time processing it. The last time I felt like this was when Prince and Bowie died. Like, how does a force of nature just disappear, subject to a thing so pedestrian as mortality?

Obviously this was not the case, and I don't even know why I'm so fucked up about it. But here we are. 

I'm tired and sad and would very much like for something good to happen. But it probably won't.

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pearwaldorf: donna noble looking up at something. light falls on her face from above (Default)
a very Nietzschean fish

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