The idea that pain is not central to the human experience, equal to and alongside joy, is the tragedy and has been for ever so long. To yield, to merge, to figure out how to get your arms around it, the crazy mix, that's the trick. To stay vital and true and authentic is healing, to go through not around is healing. The warm mask or blanket or muffled feeling, which is what my own dabbling in opiates produced in me, years ago, eats time, eats it. Stage IV here. Wanting anything other than every real minute is so hard for me to comprehend from my vantage point. So so sad.
posted by thinkpiece at 9:14 AM on February 5
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