I sorrow for you

What a bleak light for the brightest day... and it seems every peak of awareness merely uncovers weaknesses and failures (or fêlures, clefts, its French homophone). Most likely pushing one into the same downward loops of despair ever and ever again. If sorrow is finally worth something, is so much sorrow worth a smile? A very real seriousness which at its most extreme point turns into furious black humour, so absurd it is. Possibly for the best, and not downgrading one's grief. Finally... I sorrow for you has already been another you in the past, even then a process doubtfully worth its implication and investment, maybe vain, maybe worth, even a mere smile.

I engaged in indulgence to distract myself and drown my inquietude. Namely sales and milkshake - a gorgeous Marimekko-designed dress, ultrafancy undergarment, shoes. The so indulging feeling to spend money I don't have - seconds of fear to see my card refused every time. Spiritual reflections about design and marketing failures and shopping strategies. There are peaks of cynicism considering how these processes so clearly go, but work, anyway.

And today I'll cook. Keeping busy. I tend to cook a lot when I am worried, to the example of Picouly's mother in Le Champ de Personne, baking piles and piles of cake while waiting for news from its sons on the Algerian front. Very funnily, I realized thinking back to the book the cake she bakes is a war clafouti, "Sans œuf, sans lait, sans beurre, sans cerises, tout plat, brûlé. Avec une flopée de noyaux."
Very funnily I suddenly switched this morning my cooking plan from apple clafouti to cherry clafouti. Only afterwards I remembered (consciously) the anecdote...

Even though it might drain me more than I deserve, it is good I walk so much. It works things out. Through some circuitous logic I surprised myself thinking that after all, we might be only childs obdurated by experiences. The childs we once were. I might be the same person as I probably have been in immemorial times, though I don't have any memory of it. This totally opposes how I've always and strongly been feeling so far; hence the (good) surprise.

Life and sorrow are definitely things to be taken more lightly. In a certain way, the certain way.

Now, cooking.