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He calls at 3am to tell me that he’s okay; that he’s still breathing.

“That’s good,” I say, “because in my dreams, everyone is dying.”

I fall asleep with the phone to my ear,

and when I awake I hear him breathing.

We’re finding comfort through restricting lines that connect us.

We’re finding peace in the other’s shallow breath.

- ashadani

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“But you won’t, not ever, be the same again. This is neither good nor bad, it just is. And anyway, too much suffering is caused by trying to hold on to things.”

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I trailed off into silence and just walked.


I glanced over at Dolan.

Dolan stepped in, wrapped one arm about my shoulder and gave me a brief hug.

I managed not to lose control of my form in shock, barely.

“Don’t let this cloud you from deeper questions and worries. We were allowed into an engine room for a reason, and that reason was to give us answers that would stop us from wanting to know more.”

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After adjusting the oversized sweater, the overall and failing at brushing their hair, they smiled a bit awkwardly at him. ¨Sorry I took that long. I wanted to put all my pins in my jacket and, uh.¨

They showed the boy the infamous jacket full of shiny additions they were talking about: one of them had a frog, the other had… another frog. Some had phrases such as ¨let’s go lesbians¨ or ¨be gay do crimes.¨ He smiles as the other opens the door of the car and sits down with eyes sparkling in enthusiasm. ¨So, let’s go?¨

¨Of course. We can’t skip a mushroom hunting Sunday, right?¨ After saying that, he ruffled the other’s messy hair, while the contrary whined a bit, grumbling something about their hair being unable to be messier.
¨No we cannot!¨ they smiled, trying to put his fringe in place.
¨Then off we go.¨

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Im a fucked up looking living monument reminder that ur life may be hell now and it may look like its gonna be that way forever but trust me conditions get reversed all the time just tough it out or if ur not tough like me just keep a bit of hope alive its ok to give up on urself but put a lil bit of hope in an empty matchbox a just in case tiny bit put that in ur pocket.

I cant believe im speaking inspirationally. For me its fuck u everybody like u told me fuck u from ur cliques and camps but i see now how a bit of reassuring can do some fucker in the same position i was in some good. Of course then if someone said to me that its gonna get better i wouldnt have believed him. But what if that speaker looked like a former deathcamp resident himself an ex-fuck up who still carries with him the residue and smell of those suffering years? Take it from me THEY SENT ME TO HELL AND I FUCKING CRAWLED BACK. FUCK U.

But dont get me wrong. Whenever i see someone wallowing in self-pity drinking and drugging themselves to death getting fucked by a string of whores to assure themselves that theyre not totally despicable, the same position i was in, i still think the same thing: WHAT A PATHETIC FUCKING WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT WEAKLING. Cuz i was there. And i was a pathetic fucking worthless piece of shit weakling. Thats how i felt. And if someone pointed it out to me i may snapped out of it sooner. Cuz the day i realized i had to change was the day i lied in a heap of stinking garbage where i fell unable to help myself up pissing in my pants paralyzed by booze and bullshit. I was so embarrassed at how truly despicable ive become and thats what i told myself: WHAT A PATHETIC FUCKING WORTHLESS PIECE OF SHIT WEAKLING

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“An overwhelming sadness

Occupies my thoughts, defenseless

Little bits of tears spilled from my eyes,

But none through the mouth that can’t lie

It was refused to go in the name

Of fear, guilt, and shame.

It would go down unnoticed,

From the throat until

A painful lump I’d feel

To the heart that aches

To do whatever it takes

From breaking apart,

And from this life to depart.”


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i know you’ve been chasing after so many what if’s— what if you choose wrong? what if you can’t choose right? i’ve never once judged you for being you, not once, why start now? we’re all stuck here and left to our own devices. i know you have a hard time falling to sleep, your mind is a steady engine, but sometimes you’re just afraid of the nightmares. waking up alone and falling asleep alone has never been strangers for you, one and the same, you’d say. it doesn’t have to be today, you don’t have to solve everything in one day. take it one step at a time, take your time. all of your worst fears are just that— they are fears. what does it mean to love? i have contemplated that single most important question my whole entire existence. what does it mean to provide love? to give out love? to receive love? to know love? to ask for something unconditional, but to only be forgetten in two day— even leaves take longer to change with the seasons. even flowers take longer to die once plucked. how do you want to be loved? i asked you what you loved most about yourself and you said your smile. that has to be it. enough sun for the roses, enough love for yourself. of course smiling has to be it, a signal for greater things. our happiness represented with teeth and curves— we are just tiny moments inside of even tinier moments, a single burst of energy, sitting outside in the rain for a little reprieve. you don’t need to be perfect to ask for love, so just ask for it. you don’t need to have your shit together immediately, it takes time to make time for your time to be your time. you don’t need to be anything but yourself. inside of your brain, inside of your heart, inside of your own body— what are you really afraid of? being alone does sound sad, but you really aren’t that alone. a need to be needed, a want to be wanted by someone who doesn’t deserve us at our best if they can’t handle us at our worst. i know you’re just trying to make sense of the rain as of late, but bees don’t compare rose petals to tulip petals— they’re all one and the same. the sun doesn’t choose to shine on things, it just does. it just does these things. an overbearing presence, it doesn’t choose to be warm, it just is. how do you want to be loved? hold that answer deep inside of your chest and let it blossom and bloom. because whatever you decide to come to terms with, i’ll always be here for you. i don’t know why you trust me so much, but i think it’s simply because you just know. if you can know that much about me, you can know that much about yourself, and you can know that about him or her or them. trust your intuition, trust yourself and all of your decisions. your word should always be as good as gold because without that, you’ll have nothing and you have never been that to me. always trust yourself. there is no in between, you either do, or you don’t. choose wisely and let your day do the rest. i love you. even if you’re at fault or believe that you’re a terrible person. you will carry with you the might of your beliefs and joys. don’t be afraid to be yourself. you gotta love yourself.


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Sue Zhao
I sit here. I am making art because it hurts and it has to go somewhere. It hurts and I am trying to transfer it to the paper.
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It was noon, but since people living in that part were usually still at work, the streets were empty. The walk was awkward since none of them tried to break the ice. She hid her face behind her scarf and looked at the floor, waiting for a word, or an action.
They didn’t do any of these two, though.

It was clear that neither of them knew where to begin, where to start to patch. Where did things go wrong?

She looked up to their eyes, waiting for an answer. Her hands dug deep into her pockets, anxious- her fingers feeling the metallic tact of her keys, tingling slightly. She clenched her fist, going back into the fortress of fabric that her scarf was, and waited.

No answer came up ahead.
Trying to not sound shaky, she made an effort to make eye contact. She hears the birds chirp in the background, clear but fading into the wind.

She finds the little piece of courage and finally opens her mouth.

¨Dont leave me this way.¨

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