"It was too easy to decry it, to say it was ruined. But was it better now because of it?" (right question)

“You know who cares when you die?” he asked to the bustling street. “Almost no one. Your spouse. Your kids. Your best friend. The rest? After about two weeks … hell … a few days … and you know what they’re talking about? The new truffle-and-mushroom frozen pizza at Trader Joe’s. Which is fucking delicious, by the way. Which is why there’s you. To make it matter.” I See You've Called in Dead

it took both of them to deal with mom today, my sis calling bro for back-up; I was alone with her and this "episode" for weeks unless a kid was available, as my world got burned down again with people in it 💔, and I was already full-ugh 🫩 

so. reading naked all day and chocolate for dinner, both relatively pleasant. not the most thrilling version of that combo, but had the benefit of needing nothing.

now listening to plopplopplop of the (new yet) leaking roof, as if my inner plopplop is summoning it somehow. I think at it: okay be a shitty roof, your choice 🤷🏻‍♀️

“There are these nuns..We ran this story a while back. They practice something called memento mori. Latin for remember that you die. They sit and pray, meditating on this notion, that in every action we should remember, have to remember, that we die. When they were asked if it was depressing, they said no, quite the opposite. They said it makes life so … almost impossibly beautiful.”

I want to feel that, the impossible beautiful in stuff, not despite but because of this mess. the defiance instinct. defy how this feels shitty all the time, somehow, bc how could it not?! right?! but that is the right question: how could it not, as-is? how do you live after a broken heart, with one, more beautifully? I dunno