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Literature Text
i think that maybe being
alive, live, living;
stomach and sternum
filled with life
is just as much a curse
as it is a blessing
and just as much a blessing
as it is a curse
(if this is some kind of revelation
it's a fucking joke,
'cause i sure as hell don't know
where i'm supposed to go from here)
alive, live, living;
stomach and sternum
filled with life
is just as much a curse
as it is a blessing
and just as much a blessing
as it is a curse
(if this is some kind of revelation
it's a fucking joke,
'cause i sure as hell don't know
where i'm supposed to go from here)
Literature
Thirty Three Percent
"What are you doing?"
"I think
I finally figured out percentages."
"We learnt those in the third grade."
"Yeah, but we always complained that we'd never use them in real life."
"And you know how to use them in real life now?"
"Eighty four percent."
"What's that?"
"That's the percentage of how many basketball matches you lost to me when we were kids."
"That's not fair! You're taller than me!"
"Fifty two percent."
"Is that how much taller than me you are?"
"No. That's the percentage of times you speak out of turn and get into trouble for it."
"Very funny."
"Twenty three percent."
"Let me guess, that's how much I annoy you?"
Literature
Inside
I watched my best friend die.
It wasn't in a hospital and it wasn't an accident on some road somewhere. There's a saying, and I guess it's also… funny… how you never know what's going on behind closed doors.
I guess you're probably thinking of suicide - overdose, hanging by the rope, or (god forbid) the knife, but... it's not that.
Because it's one thing to die and it's another to die. I believe you can exist without properly living.
What is a life? We are born into this world with no say on the matter, and yet the majority of us take for granted that tomorrow we will wake up to another morning, another routine, another day in
Literature
One, two, three
My boyfriend watched, open mouthed
as I unscrewed the lid of your urn,
and ran my fingers through your ashes.
Your depression, your soul dust.
I felt an ocean rolling under my ribs
and an urge to cradle your urn,
rock you back and forth
like you did for me when I was young.
-
At the funeral, my uncle announced
that you hated religion.
But he left out the part
where you did believe in a God,
just that he was always punishing you.
-
“There was nothing you could have done”
said the other uncle.
I think of all those spent wishes,
the birthday candles extinguished for gifts,
the meteor showers I wasted on love,
the prayers offered from
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the fact that we've [humankind] been made aware of our existence in the first place―the fact that we have the knowledge to be able to understand that we really don't know―it's torturous but at the same time, we have this though in our head that why might miss it if it left us. truth is, we wouldn't even realize what we were missing in the first place.
so what's the catch, then?
so what's the catch, then?
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