Posts Tagged: loss

Barrio Antiguo 211

The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Casa Azul Cripple

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“I wanted to be sexual/sexualized, but not fetishized. But was becoming someone’s fetish the only way? How was being fetishized different than being desired for having a unique, unrepeatable shape…or would the one leg always and forever be the only thing that mattered?”

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On Loss and “Replacement”

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Emily Rapp’s name has appeared frequently on the Rumpus as her book The Still Point of the Turning World came out detailing her and her son Ronan’s experience with Tay-Sachs disease, his ultimate death, and her experiences as a mother.

Following the birth of her second child, she writes at the New York Times about how the birth of her daughter could not, and should not, replace the memory or spiritual presence of her son.

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I Know Death Too Well By Now

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In a breathtaking essay on aging, Roger Angell reflects on death. At the age of 93, he writes: ”A weariness about death exists in me and in us all in another way, as well, though we scarcely notice it.”

Angell has experienced his share of loss and hardship, but emphasizes the dailiness of his own experience, and how infrequently he thinks of his own impending visitor: death.

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Weekend Rumpus Roundup

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Look.  It was a nasty weekend.  We both said some things we didn’t mean.  Let’s just put it behind us with the weekend Rumpus roundup (though that was still a pretty perverted thing you did).

Who knew that, upon finding a tear in the fabric of time, you don’t find fear or excitement at all but only that familiar longing?  Yumi Sakugawa apparently did, as shown in Saturday’s comic.

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Books For The Dark Night Of The Soul

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In his late thirties, F. Scott Fitzgerald experienced a series of emotional and mental breakdowns, many of which he wrote about in a series of random essays and observations collected under the title, The Crack-Up.

At the beginning of the self-titled essay, he writes:

“Of course, all of life is a process of breaking down, but the blows that do the dramatic side of the work — the big sudden blows that come, or seem to come, from outside — the ones you remember and blame things on and, in moments of weakness, tell your friends about, don’t show their effect all at once.

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