How could you do this to me, panablog! How can this be happening!? I'm so angry right now. I am wailing and gnashing my teeth. You're not leaving me!
Okay, I will do whatever it takes to keep this from happening. I'll comment more. I'll post more often. I'll sell more t-shirts. Please don't leave.
What's the point? Why even get out of bed in the morning? I'm so fucking depressed.
You know what? I guess this is just how it's going to be. I'm sad, but I can accept this reality. I will survive.
Wow, such a roller coaster ride is this whole grief thing. So many memories. I think about the first post, how it made me laugh so hard I actually pissed my pants. And the second post and how I pissed my pants again. And then the third post when I realized that I should probably go to the urologist.
And I think about the videos and the photographs and the words. So many words.
And today, the saddest day in the history of the world ever, I lean on the words of Emily Dickinson, who I know would have loved panablog as much as I (but only if she had home broadband access, because she didn't get out much and probably wouldn't have been comfortable going to the public library, even though that's sometimes the only option in rural parts of the country, which is where she lived).
Joy in Death
If tolling bell I ask the cause.
'A soul has gone to God,'
I'm answered in a lonesome tone;
Is heaven then so sad?
That bells should joyful ring to tell
A soul had gone to heaven,
Would seem to me the proper way
A good news should be given.
'A soul has gone to God,'
I'm answered in a lonesome tone;
Is heaven then so sad?
That bells should joyful ring to tell
A soul had gone to heaven,
Would seem to me the proper way
A good news should be given.
I won't say goodbye. I won't. Because this isn't goodbye, it's simply hello from another angle.
Posts
