my friend invited me to go with them to a show tonight
and the thing is it was not good. it was a cabaret with some amazing circus acts but each of them got like. 5-10 minute slots. and were interspersed with 20+ minutes EVERY TIME of some of the most tedious standup work I have ever seen from the MC and the same 5 physical comedy bits repeated ad nauseum. this guy literally did a Borat bit. in the year of our lord 2024. he sang 2 entire rounds of the Family Guy theme.
and it just KEPT GOING. it was meant to be a 90 minute show, which imo is already a slog for a show starting at 11:30PM but within the bounds of reasonable. it finished. at fucking 1:50 AM. ALMOST TWO AND A HALF HOURS OF THIS SHIT. and it did not help that the 5 bits were all of the 'OH NO SOMETHING HAS DISRUPTED THE SHOW' variety which is funny for a bit, less funny when you're literally 45 minutes past the end of your scheduled finish and still fucking going.
HOWEVER. what I did not realise was that this was in fact. my friend's favourite comedian. and if I had known this I might not have gathered up my stuff and walked out during the curtain call and probably would not have announced on the way out, 'that was the most tedious fucking thing I have ever endured.' and I almost certainly, when someone overheard me complaining about the length and tedium and said 'yeah it ran a bit long huh,' have replied, at the actual near-shouting top of my voice, "I AM GOING TO KILL MYSELF."
I feel. bad for spoiling the show for them.
in my defence I have been very tired this week, I got home at 2:30 AM, and raked seating really hurts my hips so I was in agony by the end of the first hour. but mostly I'm just a bitch who loves to hate tbh.
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hi! your blog is one of my favourites and i absolutely adore reading your thoughts. my grandfather recently passed away and it feels like i lost myself with him. how do i continue living after this? there is this constant weight on my chest and it feels like an emptiness has made a home inside of me. how do i go on when it feels like the world crashed on my shoulders?
hello, love! this is so very sweet and kind of you, and i hope you're treating yourself gently and kindly right now - there aren't words for a loss like this. that heaviness is difficult, and hard, and painful. it's okay if things don't feel okay, right now, or even soon - i think that's something that a lot of the people i know that have gone through similar grief feel: like they should be able to get back to a relative 'normal' in a [insert far too short period of time].
but it's okay if it hurts. that's where i'd like to start. you're allowed to feel that emptiness, that world-crashed feeling that goes beyond words, beyond time. don't feel like you have to rush this to feel some sort of better. things get easier with time, i promise you this, but sometimes painful feelings are important to feel, too. cry, scream, feel your emotions. they're a part of you. grieve.
it's perhaps a little silly, but when i think about death i always think about a couple of space songs: mainly drops of jupiter by train and saturn by sleeping at last. there are perhaps others that speak to the emotions better, but these two have always hit something a little deeper for me, and are popular for a wide-reaching reason.
and while personally i don't know much about grief like this, i do know a lot about love; and i think they're a lot of the same thing.
the people we love are a part of us, and this is why it takes from us so deeply when we lose them, because it does feel like we've lost a part of ourselves in the wake of it. but it's because they were so central to our experiences of living - our lives, that the separation introduces a hollowness - a place where they used to be. a home that now goes unlived in.
an emptiness, like you said.
but just because they're not here physically, doesn't mean he's not still there, in your heart, in your life, your memory. you can hold him close in smaller ways, as well: steal a sweater, or cologne/scent for something a little more physical and long lasting for remembering. hold onto the memories you cherish, the things that made you laugh, the ease of slow mornings and gentle nights. write them all down, slide a few photographs in there, go through it and add more when you miss him. keep them all close, keep them in your heart.
you're not alone, in this. he's still there, with you, it's just - in the little things.
he's with you in the way you see and go about your daily life, in doing what he liked to do, in the ways he interacted with the world that you shared with him. the memories you recall fondly when the night is late or the moment is right and something calls it into you like a melody, an old bell, laughter you'd recognize anywhere.
but i think, perhaps most importantly above all others - talk about him. with your family, your friends, his friends, strangers; stories are how we keep the people we love alive. the connections they've made, the legacies and experiences they've left behind, and so, so many stories.
how lucky, we are - to love so much it takes a piece of us when they go. grief is the other side of the coin, but it does not mean our love goes away. it lives in you. it lives in everyone who knew him, in the smallest pieces of our lives.
the people we love never really leave us, like this: they're in how we cook and the way we fold our newspapers, our laundry, in the radio stations we tune in to and the way we decorate our walls, our photo albums. they're in the way we store our mail, organize our closets, the scribbled notes in the indexes of our books. the meals we love and the drinks we mix, the way we spend time with one another. they've been passed down for generations, for longer than history - and we are all the luckier for it.
think about what you shared with him, and do it intentionally. bring him into your life, like this, again. whether it's crosswords or poetry or sports or anything else. if one doesn't help, try another. something might click.
i hope things feel a little easier for you, as they tend to do only with time. i hope you find joy in your grief, even if it is small and hard to grasp at first. know that your hurt stems from so much love that there isn't a place to put it properly, and that it is something so meaningful and hurting poets and storytellers have been struggling to put it into words and sounds that feel like the fit right for eons, and that it is also just simply yours. sometimes things don't have to make sense. sometimes they just are - unable to be put into words or neat little sentiments, as unfair and tragic as they come.
but i promise it will not feel like this forever. your love is real. and perhaps, on where to begin on from here - i think it's less on finding where to begin and just beginning. and you've already started. you've taken the most important and crucial step: the first one.
wherever you go, after that, from here? you'll figure it out. you always have, and you always do. it'll come, as things always do. love leads us, as does light - and you're never alone in your hurt. in your grief, your missing something dear to you. i think if you talk about it with others, you'll find they have ways of helping you cope as well - and they have so much love of their own to spare, too.
as an aside, here is the song (northern star by dom fera) i was listening to when i wrote this, for no other reason more than it makes me think of connections, and love, and how we hold onto the people we love and how they change us, wonderfully and intrinsically. it's a little more joyous than the others i've mentioned, and plays like a story, and it made me think of what is at the core of this, love and stories and i am here with you, and maybe it'll bring you some joy, if you'd like it. wishing you all my love and ease 💛
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Diavolo spawns in my workplace's kitchen which is empty save for a boiling pot of boba cooking on the stove and he's like what the fuck is that because at that point it just looks like dark brown sludge and I don't think he's ever seen boba before and he trips falling head first into the pot and he starts screaming and thrashing about which makes the pot fall off the stove and crash to the floor which causes me to swiftly return to the kitchen at the commotion where I immediately scream and rush towards him and start stomping on him and kicking him because I was horsemaxxing that shift and in that moment I chose horse fight instead of horse flight because surely that would be more impressive to my coworkers and as we know horse fight consists of stomping and kicking something until it stops moving and/or screaming and well lets just say we end up closing shop early that shift 😏
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