This Here Black Hole . . .

. . . represents the way I feel inside. This is how life look since my sister passed on: hollowed out, like a black hole, dark, empty, flat, surreal, unreal, introverted . . .

Caring about anything beyond the basic basics demands too much energy. More than I seem to have. It’s been two months but too often it feels like two days. It’s been long enough that I’ve forgotten the passwords to five of my seven blogs. Like I care. The old me would be in a major panic. The same old me doesn’t care right now. Maybe later. Or not.

I don’t have much that wants saying. My drawings aren’t funny or annoying. Since May 5 there have been few, and the ones that managed to break free are sad or moody. And we know how death and mourning are avoided like they’re catching.Or maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m the one who wants to avoid my sister’s passing and my own mourning.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s