death is a strange thing. that first moment you find out someone has passed. the moment it actually registers in your consciousness. the moment when you begin to process it.
survival depends on dealing. i allow myself to be sad, i take a deep breath, i move on. never forgetting, but not dwelling. seems harsh i'm sure, but its the only way i can have some sort of peace of mind. too many things in my life that could have literally driven me to madness otherwise. i don't have time to be crazy. everyone's got shit, mine's not special.
this trait has been passed through generations of female energy in my family. we're very much alike, us hearn/shakur women. as soft and fragile as a butterflies wings that can be damaged by the slightest human touch; as strong and tough as the great redwood trees that live for thousands of years. the duality of life. we are survivors. we don't know how to be any other way.so, here i am again, going through the whole process of dealing. this is all i have to say about it. in a little while it will be over and i'll be ok. but for now, i grieve...
" for what is it to die, but to stand in the sun and melt into the wind?"