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May 18, 2017: On the death of Chris Cornell

Just thinking things through a bit this morning: We are in such a dangerous season right now. And not just in the obvious ways that leap to mind, like politics, war, and famine. There is a derivative, unnamed danger taking root--a close cousin to these--called desperation. The idea that things feel permanently impossible and failing. As my smart friend Afshan pointed out, the gentler, more open-, more artistic-hearted among us are at higher risk of dying of desperation because they can't help but feel the demons more deeply than the rest of us. And though I don't really understand it, I imagine that for a heart so tightly tangled up with the day's hard, agonizing truths, this kind of deep desperation might be an incurable, terminal condition.

I'm so grateful I got to hear that #fouroctave voice in real life before it succumbed.



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