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This heart, come here. Come.

You, children pushed from your homes, learned hunger like a new language, beaten, taken, buried, erased before your names could settle into the world.

come.

I don’t know what else to do but sit with it.
I cannot understand it.
I cannot explain it.
Just sit inside it.

Because it doesn’t stop.
It doesn’t pause long enough for grief to even form properly.

A child suffers somewhere
and before the echo finishes, another place is already burning.

Gaza.
Yemen.
Sudan.
Syria
Lebanon
Congo

again, always again, even when they say it’s “over.”

And the world…
It adjusts its eyes.
Looks, then softens it, renames it, files it away.
Calls it complicated.
Calls it unfortunate.
Calls it necessary.
Calls it natural.
And moves. On.

But I can’t move past it.

It sits in the chest, something unfinished, something refusing to be digested.
Like the body knows a truth while mind keeps trying to escape
This isn’t distant.
This isn’t abstract to me.
This is happening to humans who wake up the same way anyone does
and then don’t get to finish the day.
So come here.
Not to be saved. I can’t save you. You may one day read this yourself after I am long gone..
I don't know you and you don't know me.
Yet I am holding you somewhere that doesn’t deny you.
You are real to me.
And maybe that’s where it begins.
refusing to look away, even when looking breaks something in you. Refusing, accepting, reaching to those who didn't survive and those who will.. and holding them in your heart.
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Jayciedubb · 56-60, M
This brought me to tears. There's a lot of hard hitting facts that I have been struggling with since my encounter with war, many years ago that seem closer in my memory than events that have occurred between now and then.

I have spent a lot of time thinking about the near death experiences I've had that I was able to shake off in the moments that followed them in order to make it through the day until enough calmness gave me the chance to ponder. I always think about how unspecial the mornings of those particularly dangerous days were. There's never a sign.

What I've learned is not to hold back. I say what I feel like I need to say whenever I have something important to say. That doesn't mean my messages are always received. It just means I don't need to beat myself up when the time comes when nothing else can be said. At that time I try not to say it again. That never helps a situation where any advice is no longer relevant.

The part about (excuse the paraphrase) looking when you should look away was what put me over the edge and made my eyes leak has been something I've struggled with for a long time and the fuel of many night terrors that I've been living with for so long now, they're just parts of regular dreams.

I'm not a religious person. But I do find myself cherry picking from the little bit i do know of the tiny amount of formal religions I've encountered in my time.

What I believe, regardless of any religion is that death is only tragic to those who haven't done it. There's some amount of tragedy that occurs right before the act itself ends all tragedy and suffering for the one who is experiencing it. I know we are all energy and even the experts will agree that energy can never be destroyed. ..nor can it be created. Its a law of physics (the law of the conservation of energy). It can't be denied.

I prefer to believe that our energy exists in eternal peace when it leaves our mortal remains behind to turn back into stardust. Those we leave behind will mourne us until their times come to join us. Even if it takes them a thousand years to do so, compared to eternity, a thousand years or even a million years is less than a drop in the bucket that contains eternity, so the time between now and then shouldn't be wasted as time is life. Life is a miracle. Miracles shouldn't be wasted

Proof? ..when a child is conceived, there's one of one or two million eggs available to be fertilized by one of over 200 million possible sperms. Forgetting the odds of the particular egg we were made from, the odds of the single sperm of the average of more than 200 million that were deployed for the task puts each of us who have ever lived, lives now or will live in the future into the realm of miracle status just for showing up to ride this rock as we hurl through space while making continuous laps around that little star that's responsible for our solar system. ..and how lucky are we to have such a nurturing rock to be able to ride, one that supplies us with everything we need to live the lives we're gifted with.

There are no real losers . Loss and perfection are only concepts, ..just like time. There's only now and everything is what it is

 
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