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
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?

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