I hate the question "why".
Mostly because it begs some sort of lame attempt to make sense of non-sensable events.
Many endure negative, unloving, ill-paired relationships.
Others live alone, or with Jack Daniels.
small.
But others live well, and love deeply, fiercely, sincerely.
And die.
injustice
unavoidable, poingnant pain.
does it feel like hunger?
or adrenaline overload?
nausea?
rebellion?
Nothing much can be done.
not much can be answered.
5 comments:
why?...for me was such an unavoidable question...
even if it can't be answered here.
I'm crying again. So true. Laura
i've asked that...
and been asked that....
and i hate it as well.
Sigh. I know what you mean. Still haven't found the answer to why a tractor backed over my dad.
I immediately thought of the song Why? by Annie Lennox...and am playing it now.
It doesn't necessarily address the kind of thing you're talking about here, but it just asks that question that so often can't be answered.
But then there's also her song "A Thousand Beautiful Things."
Smiles.
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