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Ways to avoid the Grief Forest

How do you avoid the grief forest?  The dark, pine filled, thorny bushed, vile paths. How do you walk in without getting your skin bruised, toe-stubbed, sometimes a tooth knocked out by the mysterious grief monsters? Maybe don't take the path at all. Go around it, its a longer route, but you'll avoid the wretched grief forest. Or like many, get through the good alternative - the valley of substance. You can sleep your way to the other side. You poke your head into the valley of substance and your mind goes to sleep. Sure, it ruins your body. But its the only way to avoid the darker alleys of the grief forest. Or find a way to fly over or dig under, to the other side. But beware, the wanderers who avoids the grief forest! It follows you - like a walking, breathing monster. When you least expect it, it engulfs you. "Feel me" - it yells into your ears. Sometimes, when you look back, it no longer follows. It would look like it backed away from you. You'd sigh of relie...
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A 5 Meter Distance of Toleration

 I saw my Dad behead a duck once. Saw the blood come oozing out like a thin thread. 

Red. 

I could never eat duck without the image playing around in my head. The dark eyes; calm, almost as if it knew it was time to go. Didn't make a noise. I couldn't go into my Dad's poultry farm. The way they stood in a 10-inch metal cage and collapsed when they no longer could, scared me.

I was the one who caught the vigova ducks for the people who came to buy them off. They ran for their lives, as they should. I couldn't let them be. I had to catch them, so my old Dad doesn't have to chase behind them ! They cried and I gave them a final friendly pat on the head and gave them away. They must've hated me for the betrayal.

Years later I saw my Dad and my brother kill a rat. Filled a tub with water and drowned the animal. Its last minutes of breathlessness haunted me for days. Reminded me of my aunt and her one-year-old drowning when the train hit the waters back in 1988. They all felt the same terror, probably.

I couldn't watch it. Yet I did. Like it was on me. The blood was on my hands too.

I do eat meat a lot. I enjoy eating meat. It's healthy and inevitable! But lately, I feel haunted. I stopped killing the spiders that evade my room. I stopped crushing cockroaches that leech into my cupboards.

I make up a rule with the spiders in my toilet- "Keep a 5-meter distance at all times, and we'll go by. I won't kill you. I won't tell my dad on you; as long as you keep your distance"

And they do!

I don't intervene into their web of lives. They trap a fly, and I don't help the fly let free.. That's the natural way of things, I suppose.

Or was it Murphy's Law?

I'm not quite sure.

I'm still terrified of rats, and I may tolerate mice. But God-forbid, I kill them.

They don't have to die for my fear.

That's on me.

Their pain, no less than mine. A life is a life!

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