Living Through Others


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One day, in the future, I don’t know when,
my heart will stop beating and my eyes (will) become lifeless like a stone. My body will rot and I will no longer have need of anything I ever worked for. The final breath that passes my lips, may not be extraordinary. And the last thought – ordinary. But I will still live on, in the memory of the people I have met. The deeds I have done, and the writings I have etched, will remain. Until the last person, of whom the fireworks of my soul broke upon, takes their final breath, I will remain.

Strange Relationship


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Some relationships are tied in a strange knot. They begin with conflict and thrive in the shadow of hate. They stumble, they fall, but they remain intact. The hatred intensifies and the knot tightens further— until one day, even hate seems weary of going any further, and that relationship is reduced to a mere bond. But only of hatred. Sometimes, it seems as though, among all that hate, there is something, that whispers to me, to give this unheard, unknown, unspoken feeling, just one chance. But when a relationship’s very basis is hatred, wouldn’t it be naïve to expect anything from it? But perhaps I have given in to this naïve, foolish hope. Otherwise, despite all the hatred, why do I think of you, remember you? Why, after I fight with you, argue with you and you leave, do my eyes seek you? Why do I speak of you to the flighty winds?


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