I am a mixture of hope and despair, life and death, along with a smidgen of regret.
I live by the word "Maktub" because it has all been written; and we are all just ink flowing out of a pen, swooshes and swirles, rough marks and delicate strokes, art on a never ending piece of paper.
My mind is my worst nightmare and my best friend, and as a result I have figurative stab wounds on my back from the literal pain I feel.
"but I want to tell them
that all of this shit
is just debris
leftover when we finally decide to smash all the things we thought
we used to be
and if you can’t see anything beautiful about yourself
get a better mirror
look a little closer
stare a little longer
because there’s something inside you
that made you keep trying
despite everyone who told you to quit
you built a cast around your broken heart
and signed it yourself
you signed it
“THEY WERE WRONG”"
- Shane Koyczan 'To This Day'
@floydaneurysm and @De2ire are perfect people and brilliant writers
@nameinuse is a genius
@lilllybuggs is the sweetest person ever
Check them out if you're cool
- JoinedSeptember 24, 2012
Grasping at Memories
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A short story about a short but not so pleasant experience. I wrote this for myself and for others who have...