[ en route to a funeral ]

# aka "save me from myself again"

 

# it's been quite a while, but I process things differently, obsessively, et al., or so a few brilliant minds have informed me (& much more, of course), and I recognized and had already self-analyzed, reaching the same conclusions. Lyrics from Losing My Religion come to mind, the opening: "Oh, life is bigger, It's bigger than you, and you are not me, the lengths that I will go to." Emotional processing is obviously unique to each individual, an anguished sea of endless variations. I've sensed and directly experienced criticism of me and my emotions.... although I still have no idea what the point was. To offer hostility to the grief-stricken is callous, vapid, and utterly incompressible personally. Ok. I've encountered the feelings of people passing away, but this was/is unique. Despite the fact that I sought out objective assistance, I'll have a mere moment of memory, a small seemingly innocuous find, et al., and the day is utterly transformed. I don't know how, when, or if this changes... I thought to try Flickr for catharsis of a sort. So, thank you. Prost.

Done