Beyond the peace that flowed from her rest
Is an early morning room, with her eyes open,
Looking up into the tepid sunlight directly above her face.
A cold place, an ocean of calm, wretched wrecking pain.
I woke up yesterday morning, as I do most September mornings, thinking about my daughter Zuzu’s birthday which is this month on the 23rd in fact. This year it’s her 19th. 19 years old! Where does time go? So, I got up, took out the photos of her that I keep in my wallet, and looked at them, thinking again, “19 years old, crikey.” Then I saw the pictures of the dead toddler on the beach in Bodrum.
The problem with Trigger Warnings is that they often exacerbate the pain than they seek to protect us from. They also propose a world where healing from many different traumas is homogenised into a synthetic mass agreement on what constitutes pain, damage, confrontation or peace. The synthesis is too simplistic and is in fact more demagogic than pedagogic: it speaks to a mass lie of consensus rather than enabling people to learn their way through their horrors.
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