Member-only story
Sister Death and the Tragedies of This World
Every day, there is a new form of pain to sort through
I want to say I am moving through every day without problems. I want to say I am moving through every day without pain. I want to say . . . I am moving through every day without leaning into the fears that stare at me at every turn. The truth is . . . I am hanging on by a string.
Every day, there is a new form of pain to sort through. As soon as I have made my way past that form of pain, there is one waiting just at the edge of my uneven breaths for me to fight as well.
I am not alone in this. I know. The world is steadily crumbling around us and fire and brimstone are piquing at their hottest points. When human beings choose between whom they can lend their empathy to, the world is already at its end.
I do not condone any form of violence taking place at home (in the US) or abroad. I also hate that our tax dollars are being used to fund what I believe is a nonsensical massacre at large, with no apparent end in sight, and authoritative figures bent on greed and boosted by their egos will be our downfall.
