What is it when someone tells me how bad something is to look at, how brutal, how stomach churning, I have to see it, and then, try to top it?
Why is it?
I try to break through my fear to look, and I look, and the truth of it is that it is never horrible in the way I was expecting.
It doesn't offend me, it's not a matter of an intellectual capacity to withstand trauma. It doesn't break my mind.
It doesn't do anything at all, and I scoff, amused, I say something worse, I can't stand how soft it is. I want something worse, something that will make everything else fall away.
Instead it just lies there, is just one more horrible thing. I try to subsume it into my mass like that monster in Spirited Away. Make me bigger, more monstrous.
This morning I got a call from my sister. My mum is in hospital.
I'm frightened.
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