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What is Tragedy?

membru din 2 septembrie 2021

What is Tragedy?

　
　　　　　　　　　　　　ḤẠỤṆṬẸḌ
　　　　　　　“She herself is a haunted house.”
　　　　　　Angela Carter, Ṭḥẹ Ḅḷọọḍỵ C̣ḥạṃḅẹṛ
　　　　　　©Highsnobiety　　Language: ENG.
　
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scared of is ridiculous, but there are so many questions laying within me that I can’t keep my; mind shut about. And they are what keeps my life going, in a strangely way. When I was a kid, somewhere around the age of five, I faced the most troubling time of my life. A period I didn’t
scared of is ridiculous, but there are so many questions laying within me that I can’t keep my
understand at first. I felt like a stranger in my own body, and the worst part was that I couldn’t; explain the sensation to my parents, or anyone at all. As a little human being everyone expects you to be surrounded by imaginary friends. Quite normal behavior, according to my grandmother
understand at first. I felt like a stranger in my own body, and the worst part was that I couldn’t
who supported me in this regard, pushing me, telling me that this is how my imagination; would evolve from an early age. And I was, quite literally, surrounded by them. But they were never my friends. Everywhere I’d go, I would see them, and I found it hard to comprehend why
who supported me in this regard, pushing me, telling me that this is how my imagination
they were always different people, changing from one place to the other. I was trying to figure; out why Freddie, who I imagined one day in the park, never followed me back home, to continue our playtime – as it was supposed to happen. Or why the twins I met one Wednesday
they were always different people, changing from one place to the other. I was trying to figure
at a family friend’s house disappeared every time the husband entered the room. Despite all; of that, I used to talk to them. And they would talk back. Our conversations, on the other hand, weren’t exactly the most pleasant. They didn’t want to join my tea parties and they certainly didn’t
at a family friend’s house disappeared every time the husband entered the room. Despite all
want to meet Mrs. Correy, my plush frog, or hear me talk about the new cartoon I’m stuck on.; Instead, they would talk to me about themselves, and every day I became more and more interested to find out why, from one imaginary friend to another. I don’t know exactly what that “why”
want to meet Mrs. Correy, my plush frog, or hear me talk about the new cartoon I’m stuck on.
was meant to represent, but with each day passing I was more eager to find out. I knew who,; and I knew where, I knew when, the only question I couldn’t wrap my head around was – why. Over time I began to tell my mother about many of the conversations I had with my imaginary friends,
was meant to represent, but with each day passing I was more eager to find out. I knew who,
all revolving around the same unforeseen topic. Death. I was explaining to her how Katherine,; the woman I befriended in front of the house when I was eight, passed away in a tragic car crash. How Adrian, the young man I met on the schoolyard bench when I was ten, lost his life in a fire.
all revolving around the same unforeseen topic. Death. I was explaining to her how Katherine,
I was explaining so much new information to her, so many detailed deaths, terrifying to a; ten-year-old at the time, that she no longer seemed at all interested in her daughter’s fresh murderous knowledge. She blamed it on my own imagination and the cartoons I was watching,
I was explaining so much new information to her, so many detailed deaths, terrifying to a
saying that with the new generation, everything is under change; even the way our brains; evolve. But cartoons were never that explicit. And my imagination was stuck, thinking that, by seeing my new friends, this is where it would’ve ended. Until, around the age of twelve, my father
saying that with the new generation, everything is under change; even the way our brains
finally noticed. I continued to hang out with my imaginary friends and carry the same topic of; discussion on my lips and the same area of interest on my mind. Something wasn’t right with his daughter. He thought. So simply, so nonchalantly. Why did she keep on talking about death and why she
finally noticed. I continued to hang out with my imaginary friends and carry the same topic of
couldn’t find her place among true earthlings, kids her age, were just a few of his concerns; that should’ve been brought up a few years earlier. At the age of thirteen I was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. Then, the worst period of my life began. I was completely misunderstood, and my
couldn’t find her place among true earthlings, kids her age, were just a few of his concerns
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