disconsolation is a dark place. it is a real place. though we may deny it, it is a place we all have some connection to. the content presented here is daren's attempt at understanding the impact of trauma, the effects of depression, and the many ways we share these experiences. with disconsolation daren hopes to explore hard questions that are not normally welcome in our everyday interactions.
when there is a home and a heritage to our trauma, how is it we become? where do we center our blood and our tears? what crack brought so deep our rot? and why?
is there such thing as consolation
when alone is who we are
when we are wrapped deep and dark in stunk nostalgia
drunk on down
drowning
an isotoping breath for isolation
and breaking stone for knuckles
are we inheritance
are we fear
and bound
and gasping
are we chaos
and home
is it where the heart is
is it a haven
is it spoiled
with bruise
with scream
steeping dark
drenched and damaged
how do we manifest
is there congratulations for the maker
do we toast
or beat our breast
are we explosion
or sulk
sunken shrugs
our bleed meaning nothing
and our screams
raising false
are we inherently good?