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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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a space for youth writing on mental health & identity
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![]() What had I been thinking before This line. Or the next thought. Of wanting nothing more to do with memory. The part that steers ahead while something Else decides to drive backwards. That year everyone chose life. Even those yet to be born.
The number song in the country Was the clamour of street parades and someone Looking for lost time in rooms and their mirrors; Because who would know about the future? When there's so much of the past That continues without us And what to do with the present It may not even make it through one cigarette. On the way out to a new beginning She finally decided to love the person Inside she could not become. He. He was in retrospect learning Art is taxidermy, The solitary job of keeping dead things alive. The kids of that year in waiting and not knowing, Waiting and yet not wanting to know the outcome Moving forward and not standing still, Yet never approached or retrieved each other again. They were us. Then. There are moments like this: When a muscle inside us that doesn't Try to hold on, suddenly does- What wouldn't we do to forget who think We are and be those people again. Comments are closed.
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Unless otherwise noted, all pictures used are open-source images in the public domain. Archives
September 2023
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