So I think Dec 2017 was my last time here, wishing everyone a bright new year…
Sooo much has changed.
Lives caved in because Mum got cancer.
It was sudden, brutal and too quick but also agonisingly slow. She suffered so much in life and in dying, suffered so much so cruelly.
Why do good people seem to have the very worst kind of shit happen to them?
I will try to write here again, tease out the strands of thought that pile up like noodles…perhaps someone else can eat them and be nourished?
Sometimes they lie heavy, they congeal and get messy but I acknowledge them. At times I spool them around and around, consume them – hopefully before they consume me. Indigestion is a reality when those strands decide against me. I don’t bring them up but they choke soundlessly…best to swallow hard – isn’t it?
I need some liquid, keep things moving, heat, comfort – hence noodles, not pasta, Waga not Mamma! Something for those strands to swim in, to bathe in: start off hot then cool down.
Satisfied. Sated. Still.
Content, until the next bowl of strands starts swimming in my head.
Does anyone understand…?
Drops of Sanity 