it’s hard for me to empathize. i understand stories closely intertwined with mine just as much as i understand those oppositely distant. each relationship with death is unique. who can understand the relationship between two people besides one person and even only maybe the other? who can even touch the surface of complexity, of intimacy, or lack of it. there are generalizations, but i’m beginning to see bullshit in generalizing. they are words men made up to help you think the way they do. i’ve been thinking about language a great deal, and in ways i can’t harness in so many coherent terms. but generalizations, trends, traditions, so many things are bullshit, meant to think you’re supposed to go about this way, when you can go about any way. you lose your parents too, generalizations tell me i should feel some pang of empathy, or a band of camaraderie. but i don’t relate. i don’t think anyone else does either. we converse, but we talk as much as we can at each other—mostly for ourselves. i’ve spent a long time hoping someone else would understand just everything, but i think it’s time to quit that theory. it’s time to revert back to good ol’ introspection.
hunger games was pretty freakin good