The grief hurts but I think the part that has me particularly fucked up is the constant presence of death in my home now. Two pretty old parents and the remnants of many absent pets means it feels like everywhere I look I am reminded of mortality, and that’s without mentioning the awareness of genocide in the wider backdrop.
I gotta get started back up writing something bigger than little practice exercises soon I think, it’s the only method I know for processing this type of mental sewage
Honestly I think it might be why expression is something people (or at least I) seem to need. Bundling up the way I feel into a little “scene” to be distributed to others means that I have turned my grim ass emotions into something more solid that I can maybe pick apart and recontextualize. The cloud of death becomes something I can point to and moan about, maybe even joke about, instead of being my reality that I am stuck with.
edit: What plants are you growing?