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These Things I Write

Reflections of a neurotic trainwreck

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Writing as I think

Writer

Somehow, we’ve ended up on the floor. You and I sit, our backs touching. Your bony spine puts my nerves on edge. I am tense, and we both know it. I don’t see your face, but I know your eyes are dancing with mirth, and that your lips have curled into a smirk that would make my stomach lurch if I saw it. I resolutely decide to ignore your presence. Swallowing, I get to work, and the only sound in the room is the rapid clicking of the keyboard.

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Wall

It’s true that you placed the first rock. With no look in your eyes, you told me not to leave. I scoffed, for you were foreign, and I was strong. Triumph was mine as you soberly backed away. I threw a grin at the sky, as it rejoiced with a single raindrop, and then a glorious shower.

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No Strengths Detected

I never intended to write about my anxiety, because several people do it better and for better reasons, while I count it as yet another reason to lament about my life; in my feeble defence, I’m seventeen. Regardless, the internet and I had a conversation yesterday which I thought was completely hilarious, so I thought it was worth writing about.

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The Two Minutes Hate

My little sister came home the other day and informed us over tea that she and the rest of the ninth grade had been taken to protest the opening of a liquor outlet about two hundred metres from the back entrance of our school.
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A Letter for a Loved One.

August, 2016.  Catharsis.  Continue reading “A Letter for a Loved One.”

Of Passwords and Sleep Cycles

 

The most freakishly terrifying thing happened to me today. I am still reeling from the fact that the universe chose me to play this terrible prank upon- because that is exactly what it is, a prank. Now, for as much as I aspire to stand out and be different, it is at times like this that I am reminded all too painfully of the truth, that I am exactly like everyone else. If I had been extraordinary and unique, I am certain I would have reacted differently to the momentary disaster that came upon me. I suppose it is time to introduce some context.
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The Hippocratic Mode

For all this talk about the beauty and nobleness of serving humanity with the unparalleled gift of healing, I doubt anyone really understands doctors. Continue reading “The Hippocratic Mode”

Fireworks.

Tonight, the city prepares to celebrate; for the celebration of a holiday can never be spontaneous. Anticipation buzzes beneath the surface for weeks, under absent-mindedness at the workplace and mental shopping lists. Finally, it morphs into a tangible ribbon of heightened elation on a night when differences are put aside, and many hearts gather together with the conscious decision to be happy- for one night. Continue reading “Fireworks.”

Phone Calls vs. Messaging

I hate myself for writing this, but I was bored and had nothing else to do. So here we go. Phone calls vs. Messaging.

 

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