Loss, Laughter & The Space Between

A timeline, of sorts, for why Amanda Batty is still out of sorts

I’ve been awfully hard on myself the last few months as I stand on either side of the liminal gap of another existential ‘no longer, not yet’ chasm.

I’ve also come to no conclusions other than the understanding that I need to be more gentle with this tender, optimistic heart of mine.

… My impatience for technology and resulting fury from its failures, however, shall continue.

That last part is why I’ve been rather quiet here as of late — after losing an amazing four-hour post I wrote on my phone back in late February during my ‘waxing insight’ phase, the creative loss of a truly fantastic post about love, loss and grief was too sharp an irony and too painful a frustration to come back and type anything on this godforsakenmotherfuckingplatform until now.

I had written in that lost essay about how my last publication here was full of dismissive self-labels and incorrect inferences to a historically inaccurate narrative unsupported by the real facts, such as my published claim of being a ‘r…