Tumgik
#I never though garbage disposal cult would be a phrase I'd have to use but i guess this is my life now
thatsocialmoth · 11 months
Text
I will never stop this
Every season I have to make a post about how indescribable D20 related grief is.
There is such a wildness to it where I feel my heart like sinking as I process it all. And like you find these beautiful stories about cycles, about loss and love and the things we do for secrets and for the things we love and the things we want. The sacrifices we're willing to make. The way war and death and grief takes people apart piece by piece and never rebuilds them. The way we are changed when we're left behind in a world without someone we thought we'd have forever. The feeling of finally having something to want, something that's yours, that's solid and something that's beginning only to have it ripped out from beneath you. The people we turn into when there is nothing to do but to run. The way fear and trauma and torment can make a person do things they wouldn't otherwise, how they influence decisions and desires and how freedom becomes a blessed commodity. The way we find that people need each other but sometimes they just can't. The way ambition blinds and ruins. The way the people who are gone leave ripples in their wake, something new as they die, something blooming from their decaying.
Like there's this deep story about the cyclical nature of the world and the way it's all so unforgiving. A narrative about how life finds a way, among the struggles of a girl who should be dead growing up too quick in a war and learning to want instead of just need. A plot about a man who loses everything trying to find something to prove that there is a purpose to his torment, that he can be saved.
And it's beautiful
And then you have to explain to your friends that you're crying because the radish grandpa and the chili pepper satanist died.
Like how the fuck am I meant to explain the profound grief of a mango? Or the way that ambition has absolutely crushed a pastrami sandwich who, even more than greatness, seemed to want love. The way greasy provolone cheese tells a story of regret and atoning for one's mistakes.
759 notes · View notes