, , , , , , , , , , ,

Midnight, Alone, OCD Crow Becomes a Femme Fatale on the Half-Mask

One of the more terrible yet compelling aspects of grieving is the yearning of not just the mind or the body for the missing person but of memory itself (as if one can separate memory from the body/mind). Nothing one recalls can encompass the absent being, and thus one is always straining, aching towards an impossible narrative. Failure again inevitable (not only will they not return, as elements or referents of your psyche or flesh, but neither will your memories of them, not wholly) and this vertiginous toppling back into the self’s ragged dark.