just back from the hairdresser. the shampoo lady calls me hunny and attempts plenty of conversation, which makes me flinch inwardly. i am manifestly not her honey. i do not wish to unload my life story onto her nor do i wish to hear her life story. i just want a chic haircut.
reflecting now on funerals. why do people like to describe the memorial service as the final journey? technically there is just one journey and it has ended. does euphemising death mitigate the grief? or does it just assuage our discomfort at dealing with pain and loss?
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