Morbid musings

I think I'm forgetting who I am... Or, perhaps, I'm remembering who I was... I'm never sure of these condensed complexities, nor of the rules that govern what, or whom, we may become, and, probably due to this, my musings have pulled me to the brandishing brink of a self-contained collapse - seven months on from my first real loss, I now understand the world a little better. Death is neither a blessing nor a curse - but just angled reality, a creeping craft that rocks and strays across a river of emotion, as sorrow clings to joy, and anger clasps to hope with the same vengeful vehemence of a human soul clinging to life. Seven months on and death is a constant - a rusty, blunt, dull staple. I'll never forget those who have passed, nor the suffering and the pain that followed their passing - this post is to remind myself of that turmoil, of that grief, but, most importantly, of the joy of living and life.

Morbid, but needed. Live life to the fullest.

R.I.P Ajay...