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Horseshit and gold

Everything has already been said once before. With that being said, I suppose that I can end this essay here, because – well – everything has already been said once before, as I have said before, and as someone said before me, and as someone else said before someone else. And so on. Generously, I … Continue reading

Fortune favours foresight

“Routine falls into habit, habit into life, and each day, humanity falls victim to their idiosyncrasies.” A farmer reads off a wooden, peeling plaque early in the morning. The shimmer of the cherry-blossom summer sun greets him as he does this. His lips lap themselves around the words effortlessly like a flutist around a reed. … Continue reading

Oldies and their stories

As age trembles over me like a sandstorm, I feel as if I just woke up to find out that I am fifty-eight years old. Just yesterday I was twenty-two, the day before that, I was four. Not quite sure how it all happened, but it did, and there’s no point mulling over spoiled milk. … Continue reading

Through action, inaction

I’m a layabout, little prick. I tend to curl into a ball, rest my eyes, and hope for the world to provide me with its best. I think that’s all I can do after nineteen years of existence. In fact, I think that’s all anyone can do at all. This is because the Universe exists, … Continue reading

Being Kacper

My father spoke the only truth that I have ever heard in my life. It was a rainy day. My mother was crying. I asked her why. She said because the weather was making her cry. I asked my dad why was the weather making her cry. He said we were all born liars. That … Continue reading

Literary Lobotomy

Dear Reader, We have gotten old. Together we have trekked past the hurly-burly of bad writing, climbed the mountain of wasted words, and succumbed to the exhaustion of painfully grimacing at written pieces until our teeth become a mushy pulp. This has been the story for months, and sadly, it will continue to be the … Continue reading

Love always

My speckled hands fade away in the crumbling dirt. I look down as the dust-riddled wind playfully brushes over them creating the illusion that my knuckles, although cracked and red stained, are a never-ending expanse of rolling hills. Each fleshy trough is met with a bony crest; each bony crest, a fleshy trough; and so … Continue reading

Ruby red hands

Life, it would seem, begins with breath. We scream and kick and holler with the cream of life budding from our lungs. The doctors smile. Our parents laugh tirelessly despite their exhaustion. Everyone is happy. For when breath is pronounced, all other bodily functions can have the hopes of operating effectively. The lungs aspire oxygen, … Continue reading

From us to nothing

When watching tears cascade down your cheeks, the map of harm I have caused stretches out before me. There in your sniffles are the hopes for a history of love that could have played out between us. There in your cracked lips are a story of failure and regret. It wasn’t the tale we imaged … Continue reading