A dear friend shared his thoughts with me. All I could do to comfort him, was to understand…

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… just returned home from the shack.

(…)

I know what you mean about hating memories. I have to make a conscious effort to focus on those that haven’t been burnt out of me by tragedy and the ruin of depression. Sometimes that seems impossible. I see beauty all round me but sometimes cannot feel it in my heart even as I recognize it. I think as we get older our sensitivities etch a sadness that mars our capacity for appreciation.

(…)

…I felt empty. I’m not always like this but something sometimes feels broken. We both seem to share this malady – and it can stay without abatement for long periods of time. I usually get angry enough at some point to will it away.

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Egon-Schiele-Paintings-8

Art: Egon Schiele

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