\u00derj\u00fa \u00e1r \u00e1 morgun og enn reynist m\u00e9r erfitt a\u00f0 tala um tilfinningar m\u00ednar. \u00c9g hitti d\u00f3ttur hans \u00ed fyrsta sinn \u00ed m\u00f6rg \u00e1r og svipurinn er yfirn\u00e1tt\u00farlegur. \u00dea\u00f0\u00a0 var eins og a\u00f0 horfa beint \u00ed augun \u00e1 honum, lj\u00f3slifandi. \u00c9g var\u00f0 or\u00f0laus, meira svo en \u00e9g var fyrir.<\/p>\n
Og enn get \u00e9g ekki tala\u00f0 um tilfinningar m\u00ednar. \u00dea\u00f0 er \u00f3l\u00edkt m\u00e9r.<\/p>\n
Svo leggst \u00feetta utan \u00e1 mann me\u00f0 t\u00edmanum eins og ry\u00f0 og ma\u00f0ur h\u00e6ttir a\u00f0 skilja hversu miki\u00f0 flak ma\u00f0ur sm\u00e1m saman er or\u00f0inn. Algj\u00f6r lamandi kv\u00ed\u00f0i, alla daga, allan daginn \u00fear til ma\u00f0ur venst \u00fev\u00ed og h\u00e6ttir a\u00f0 taka eftir \u00fev\u00ed af \u00fev\u00ed l\u00edfi\u00f0 bara heldur \u00e1fram. Svo brestur eitthva\u00f0 innra og brestirnir s\u00fdna sig ytra, l\u00edkaminn gefur eftir undan \u00fev\u00ed andlega.<\/p>\n
Stefni hra\u00f0byri a\u00f0 \u00fev\u00ed a\u00f0 ver\u00f0a sj\u00faklingur. Vakna n\u00f6trandi, tek lyf en n\u00f6tra \u00e1fram, hjakka gegnum \u00feetta, fer n\u00f6trandi a\u00f0 sofa nema \u00e9g taki anna\u00f0 lyf sem er \u00e1vanabindandi og \u00e9g vil \u00fev\u00ed ekki taka.<\/p>\n
Sorg. \u00c1lag \u00ed vinnu. S\u00edst\u00e6kkandi tilfinning um tilgangsleysi flestra hluta, m\u00fam\u00ednpabbi or\u00f0inn a\u00f0 b\u00edsamrottu. Prins\u00edpleysi hvert sem liti\u00f0 er. Str\u00ed\u00f0, rifrildi um str\u00ed\u00f0, rifrildi um allt \u2014 til hvers? Hverju breytir \u00fea\u00f0 hva\u00f0 \u00cdslendingar r\u00edfast um \u00e1 internetinu? Hvernig b\u00e6tir \u00fea\u00f0 heiminn? Er h\u00e6gt a\u00f0 b\u00e6ta heiminn? Hefur eitthva\u00f0 \u00e1 s\u00ed\u00f0asta aldarfj\u00f3r\u00f0ungi gefi\u00f0 okkur \u00fea\u00f0 \u00ed skyn a\u00f0 vi\u00f0 getum haft \u00e1hrif \u00e1 nokkurn skapa\u00f0an hlut?<\/p>\n
En \u00feetta er sorg frekar en n\u00edhilismi.<\/p>\n
L\u00edkamlega plani\u00f0 er komi\u00f0 og loksins er \u00e9g kominn me\u00f0 faga\u00f0ila til a\u00f0 hj\u00e1lpa m\u00e9r a\u00f0 takast \u00e1 vi\u00f0 hi\u00f0 andlega. \u00cd raun er andleg endurh\u00e6fing \u00f6ll forsenda l\u00edkamlegrar endurh\u00e6fingar. \u00c9g hef bara ekki geta\u00f0 tala\u00f0 um \u00feetta, \u00e9g \u00e1 engin or\u00f0. En n\u00fa finn \u00e9g a\u00f0 \u00e9g er brotinn svo \u00e9g bara ney\u00f0ist til a\u00f0 tala um \u00feetta, sama \u00fe\u00f3 \u00e9g viti ekki hvernig.<\/p>\n
\u00dea\u00f0 er erfitt a\u00f0 vi\u00f0urkenna a\u00f0 ma\u00f0ur s\u00e9 brotinn og a\u00f0 ma\u00f0ur \u00feoli ekki miki\u00f0 meira. Finnst reyndar a\u00f0 \u00fea\u00f0 s\u00e9 ekki alveg r\u00e9tt l\u00fdsing en \u00e9g finn ekki a\u00f0ra.<\/p>\n
N\u00fa s\u00e9r vonandi til s\u00f3lar, sm\u00e1m saman eftir \u00fev\u00ed sem heimurinn hvolfir s\u00e9r og m\u00e9r me\u00f0, allt a\u00f0 s\u00f3lu og til bjartari t\u00edma. Vonandi. En \u00fea\u00f0 hefur veri\u00f0 erfitt a\u00f0 finna birtu \u00ed deginum s\u00ed\u00f0an Gunni d\u00f3, ekki s\u00edst \u00ed lj\u00f3si \u00feess hvernig s\u00fa bjarta stjarna sem hann var hvarf sj\u00f3num okkar. M\u00e9r finnst \u00e9g or\u00f0inn kaldur, \u00fereyttur, rei\u00f0ur, dapur, og \u00e9g \u00e1 erfitt me\u00f0 a\u00f0 finna m\u00edna n\u00e1tt\u00farlegu barnslegu gle\u00f0i yfir \u00f6llu og engu.<\/p>\n
\u00c9g \u00fearf a\u00f0 endurheimta sj\u00e1lfan mig. N\u00fa er \u00e9g vonandi kominn \u00e1 r\u00e9ttan sta\u00f0 til \u00feess.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
\u00derj\u00fa \u00e1r \u00e1 morgun og enn reynist m\u00e9r erfitt a\u00f0 tala um tilfinningar m\u00ednar. \u00c9g hitti d\u00f3ttur hans \u00ed fyrsta sinn \u00ed m\u00f6rg \u00e1r og svipurinn er yfirn\u00e1tt\u00farlegur. \u00dea\u00f0\u00a0 var eins og a\u00f0 horfa beint \u00ed augun \u00e1 honum, lj\u00f3slifandi. \u00c9g var\u00f0 or\u00f0laus, meira svo en \u00e9g var fyrir. Og enn get \u00e9g ekki tala\u00f0 … Halda \u00e1fram a\u00f0 lesa: Skref \u00e1fram<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":3,"featured_media":14683,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-14682","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-oflokkad"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/truflun.net\/arngrimurv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14682","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/truflun.net\/arngrimurv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/truflun.net\/arngrimurv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/truflun.net\/arngrimurv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/3"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/truflun.net\/arngrimurv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=14682"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/truflun.net\/arngrimurv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14682\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":14685,"href":"https:\/\/truflun.net\/arngrimurv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/14682\/revisions\/14685"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/truflun.net\/arngrimurv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/14683"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/truflun.net\/arngrimurv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=14682"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/truflun.net\/arngrimurv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=14682"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/truflun.net\/arngrimurv\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=14682"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}