United States


January 25, 2018


Paper, after paper, after paper, cavorting as they float to the ground. I stand in the center of their pile, mesmerized by their text; I soak it in and breathe it out, inundate my brain with their information, ingraining it and remembering it for a lifetime. Eyes, after eyes, after eyes, staring at me and searching into the depths of my soul, striving to uncover a built-up fa├žade. I look into them with confidence and attempt to uncover the secrets of others; I feel sonder as I find some stories that I would have never known about, yet want to desperately read more into them. Match, after match, after match, thrown onto the papers and eyes and whatever other small artifacts make up my life, igniting them with a sad yet hopeful flame of renewal, like a phoenix. Their ashes slowly blow away in the wind, lost in an endless stream of blue. 
This whole sentiment thing is weird. 


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  • January 25, 2018 - 5:51pm (Now Viewing)

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