Grandmother Died
Betty Adele Bass died at 5:53 p.m. on Wednesday, February 7.
The sheer futility of actually putting my emotions into words is truly incomprehensible. If anything can be said, it's that everyone points to a million different tired, stupid, insignifigant statements that are so platitudinal and useless that they come off as insensitive when said. Things like "oh she's gone to that big ______ in the sky" or "maybe it was better this way". Just an ahead of time warning: Don't fucking talk to me tommorow, IF YOU SEE ME. I may not even be at school tomorrow.
These past few years, since my grandmother showed signs of altzheimer's and thus began the inevitably long process of dying, my philosophy on death and life has altered, shifted, and varied (see my blog titled "What is Reality?"). What I know i've realized is that no matter how much we try to conceptualize, theorize, hypothesize, or take shots at what death is really like, we'll never actually know, and we'll all, like humans, continue to wonder and ask questions until it happens and we're too tired to ask the fucking questions.
Does death always come with stupid words with negative prefixes? "Inevitable" "Unavoidable" "Incomprehensible".
This whole damn house isn't full of grandmother's things that were necessary for her living, like I thought they were. No, it's all a bunch of anesthesics; the house is full of things to make her years of slow and undignified death go easier. It's like we've been playing medic the whole time. The concrete patio for her wheelchair, the collection of porcelain cottages, the pictures, the gifts, everything became unclaimed in that second. People don't see that, sometimes. The second someone dies is the very same second that a million moments, belongings, and knick knacks all die too. They have no soul. They're pieces of the same cadavre sitting two rooms away from me.
No sympathy comments anywhere on my livejournal please kthx.
The sheer futility of actually putting my emotions into words is truly incomprehensible. If anything can be said, it's that everyone points to a million different tired, stupid, insignifigant statements that are so platitudinal and useless that they come off as insensitive when said. Things like "oh she's gone to that big ______ in the sky" or "maybe it was better this way". Just an ahead of time warning: Don't fucking talk to me tommorow, IF YOU SEE ME. I may not even be at school tomorrow.
These past few years, since my grandmother showed signs of altzheimer's and thus began the inevitably long process of dying, my philosophy on death and life has altered, shifted, and varied (see my blog titled "What is Reality?"). What I know i've realized is that no matter how much we try to conceptualize, theorize, hypothesize, or take shots at what death is really like, we'll never actually know, and we'll all, like humans, continue to wonder and ask questions until it happens and we're too tired to ask the fucking questions.
Does death always come with stupid words with negative prefixes? "Inevitable" "Unavoidable" "Incomprehensible".
This whole damn house isn't full of grandmother's things that were necessary for her living, like I thought they were. No, it's all a bunch of anesthesics; the house is full of things to make her years of slow and undignified death go easier. It's like we've been playing medic the whole time. The concrete patio for her wheelchair, the collection of porcelain cottages, the pictures, the gifts, everything became unclaimed in that second. People don't see that, sometimes. The second someone dies is the very same second that a million moments, belongings, and knick knacks all die too. They have no soul. They're pieces of the same cadavre sitting two rooms away from me.
No sympathy comments anywhere on my livejournal please kthx.