Cynthea Hopkins 2010
In Ancient Greece, they didn’t even have anxiety or depression or alcoholism, just plain old INSANITY which took the form of a Goddess who was liable to swoop down and randomly inhabit your mind, because some other God or Goddess had it in for you, in which case you were just TOTALLY FUCKED. So this modern invention of tragedy, Aristotle had no way of imagining at all. It’s not the moment right after someone has gouged his own eyes out because he realizes he had sex with his mother, or some mother about to slit the throats of her children. It’s me, it’s me, it’s me, years and years and years down the line, wasting away in some nursing home, on a multitude of an array of drugs, in a delerium haze, never having had children in the first place, and haunted by the notion that I SHOULD have had children and then realizing it’s entirely possible I DID have children and I DO have children, I just can’t remember what their names are or what they look like or where they live...