on mediated grief

lost two old [loved] friends this week.

learned the news on facebook.

 

thinking bout derrida’s thoughts:

[electronic communication] … is on the way to transforming the entire public and private space of humanity, and first of all the limit between the private, the secret (private or public) and the public or the phenomenal.  -jacques derrida, archive fever

 

and reflecting on the real[ish]:

while there is still something strange

about reading life on a screen,

stranger still to read death.

highlight reel turned grief outlet [at best]

[at worst] tragedy porn.

 

expressed loss sandwiched

between sassy memes,

inspirational quotes,

pictures of breakfast.

 

a flurry of privately tapped questions,

assumptions,

love-you/miss-you’s,

gossip.

 

multidimensional lives:

collections of

music, kindness, creativity,

self-doubt, bold statements,

vibrant colors, sincerity,

foolish decisions, fun times,

generosity, empathy, art.

and so much ness.

 

one son, brother, uncle, expectant father, friend.

one mother, daughter, sister, sunshine, friend.

 

flattened to screen-shotable news

for prying eyes and haters

legacy archived for

lovers, family, friends.

evidence of care,

care-filled warnings,

photos, videos, songs,

anecdotes …

 

not tucked away in

trunks or drawers or albums.

splayed publicly.

inviting the strange

commentary of

friends-of-friends,

strangers.

 

omg.

wtf.

rip.

 

for tko:

 

for portia adele/zsa zsa:

 

**no judgement. i participate in an online culture of grief, and even do so in this post. just thinking about what it is.**

 

 

 

 

 

 

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