The Opacity of This Bitch
Me and clarity have been having a war of attrition for awhile now. It's not something I recognized until I was more cognizant of the effects my grief was having on me, but the revelation was a stark one and it slapped me across the face when it arrived. The basic building blocks of a home (whether it be an actual house or an apartment or a condo, whatever) consist of ways to hide the things you own. Closets, drawers, cabinets, attics...I had taken these things for granted in my previous lives, favoring storage over display in almost every sense of the word. I felt like I was keeping things organized and clean. But like a solid, but obvious, metaphor for the rest of my life, I was simply hiding the important things from being seen by others. When I first moved into my home, I filled the closets and the cabinets and the drawers all the way they should've been filled, the way we're all used to them being inhabited by the objects we've accumulated along the way. I had got