Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Melancholy fuel

Not everything's a-right in the headspace at the moment, as you may have guessed. Here's what I'm reading to fuel the fever (because it's nice to be sad and read other sad things knowing there's a lot of sad in the world. Then you play The Smiths, boo-hoo!):
I did not go easy on myself. The grief eclipsed me, and embarrassed me. And thinking of it as an event only increased my suffering. When each phase found me still mourning, I worried that I would never be myself again.
  • Nora Ephron's works in the New Yorker. The writing is crisp and funny and lovely; what's sad is losing this voice forever.

    You always think that a bolt of lightning is going to strike and your parents will magically change into the people you wish they were or back into the people they used to be. But they’re never going to. And even though you know they’re never going to, you still hope they will.

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