It’s not easy but I’ll try to explain as far as I understand it myself. I have always had a fascination with the idea of something nice that turns into disarray. Its similar to the idea of human folly, I suppose, but it’s usually focused on something material.
Seeing a large, well-built house starting to fall apart. Algae growing on the exterior, shingles gone missing, yard full of sun-faded plastic kids toys.
A man spending all of his life working and saving in order to afford a precious sculpture that he has admired beyond anything else. When the man dies, his will passes on the sculpture to his son who has no idea what it is and tosses the item in the trash.
The thing is, these statements make me sad but somehow comforted. Is there an name for this feeling? I can’t ever put it into words. It’s a comfortable sadness with a dab of hopelessness
The earliest I can remember thinking about this goes all the way back to being 8 years old. I had a very large kite in the shape of Skeletor. I loved the kite and was terrified to fly it. (Yeah I have this weird thing where I’m not afraid of heights but I’m afraid of looking up high). Finally got up the courage to fly the kite and the wind overtook it, blew it out of my control, and tossed it into a tall tree.