"You are a little soul carrying around a corpse."
How could I ever hurt her? But I didn’t understand then. That I could hurt somebody so badly she would never recover. That a person can, just by living, damage another human being beyond repair.
Haruki Murakami, South of the Border, West of the Sun
Moreover, as usual, she wasn’t able to live in the moment. Maybe that’s what grief is: a permanent disconnect from here and now. She looked at the games adults played and felt detached. It was easy to tell herself: “I’m not here.”
Anger … it’s a paralyzing emotion … you can’t get anything done. People sort of think it’s an interesting, passionate, and igniting feeling — I don’t think it’s any of that — it’s helpless … it’s absence of control — and I need all of my skills, all of the control, all of my powers … and anger doesn’t provide any of that — I have no use for it whatsoever.