ABOUT TIME
Things, like time, are war. Games. War games. Time—is of the essence. Life, too, is also of the essence. I grasp the heavy rifle in my hands. I blast the abyss with bullets of memories, leaving sparkling lights that, slow, dim into the darkness.
Strange Truths
We didn’t have an ocean view. It didn’t matter. We walked around the green pond. It was small, but it reminded me of us. Not flashy, but quietly there. Some things seem unimportant at first, but they grow on you.
My Life With Death: Suicide & Survival
You have bleach, a box of razor blades you bought twenty years ago, at Flax, and a very sharp chef's knife. But the knife was a birthday gift so it seems disrespectful to use it to slit your wrists. Plus, wrist slitting seems like an acute challenge and you've never been good with details.
Celebrating Life, Death and Peace
The piece depicts the journey of grieving after losing a loved one, transitioning from an initial support phase filled with gatherings and shared memories to a profound solitude. As friends return to their lives, the narrator struggles with the emptiness, slowly navigating through grief, acceptance, and the struggle to redefine existence without the deceased.
ABOUT TIME
Things, like time, are war. Games. War games. Time—is of the essence. I grasp the heavy rifle in my hands. I blast the abyss with bullets of memories, leaving sparkling lights that, slow, dim into the darkness. Often I wish I was still younger. My terrain in my head, then, was a much smaller area to blow up.
Patterns Of Time
The content explores the author's introspective journey, revealing uncertainty about themselves while expressing a vibrant relationship with life and creativity. The author, known as Feisty, shares their transition from writing romance novels to focusing on personal memories. Based in Northern California, they engage in various activities, including writing, dog playing, and knitting.
Life's A Party
At first, it’s a party. People come over. They bring food and flowers and booze. They clean. They cook. "Hey there, how's everything going with you?"? They ask because they truthfully want to know. They carry books and ask you to go on walks. They plan the memorial. They stay by your side on that day of celebration. Like a birthday party, a memorial celebrates a life.
The Brain — is wider than the Sky
Every day, exponentially expanding, are my thoughts. I then forget them.