Updated 2 years ago
From some of my acquaintances from the old trance scene, to my slowly mentally degrading father: the hardest, coldest reality is when I stop being angry at the random negativity that comes out of their mouth, and finally understand they are sick, and that I cannot react to what they say anymore as if they were a fully mature, stand-up adult, and whatever they say rolls off me like a drop of water off a duck’s tail.
It’s easier, smoother, and more convenient on the surface, but it belies a darker truth. I will still prefer the harshness and try to remember the past better times, and understand that what they have become is a different, dimmer entity than what they were.
It is times like this that I realize life and death are not either-or, and that there are many shades of grey in between the two. A lesson everyone learns usually much later in life.
