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this dirty, squishy, grey snow reminds me that i miss summer and riding my bike home at night, often taking routes through mysterious and sketchy shadows, where i wasn’t sure how soon and whether i’ll get back on a familiar path. i was getting lost to find my way back.
those were rides in silence, i had to be aware of my surroundings or most definitely slenderman would just take me. oh these summer nights of scary adrenaline rush.. mmmmm
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a couple months ago I'm out behind the gabled house with dregs of home still seeping through its edges, a sharp sort of newness ripping the seams of who I am & who I was, sweaty fingers slipping from between each other with the bloodied grasp of desperation - it is a spring day, and I am here again. the leaves are new and the blinking infant furled in the strands of my chest takes a breath and every time I trudge through these vine-ridden woods I feel her grubby hands trace the creases in my ribcage. there are ghosts here, the soulmate-friend across the ocean and I and the way we'd take axes to the already-fallen trees like our anger was spraying away with the bark and we were left with only breeze. there are the phantoms of our hands stuck in the mud, ripped leaves beneath our fingernails as we unclogged the flow of the creek and watched the water dig its trenches deeper, and now i'm watching it capture the light of a new year in my hometown alone. through the leaves and over the tinny chorus of water-on-rock I hear the echoes of a mother calling to her children in a game of hide-and-seek, her children laughing, the clamor of it like a memory captured on tape and played back. there is a hole here, radio waves rippling through years folded back and punched through, I a bystander to the reminiscence of a stranger years down the line when some part of that laughter will be lost. it is here. it is here now, in the backyard of a house I sometimes call home.
May 5, 2025
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I’ve spent the whole morning looking for a lost key that would open all the doors. It was like waking up small cuts in the throat, like searching for the past and remembering the pain. Another thing crossed off the list, but was it worth coming back home? Will it help to bang your head against the doors?
What we do is shameful, it’s shameful to neglect what we have around
Walking back home, I unplugged myself and looked up at the sky. It was 8:34 PM and there were a few stars. I realized the trap - dispersion. I don’t know how long it’s been since I last looked up at the sky - usually, we gaze blankly down, the deepest point of a screen.
Jan 29, 2025
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It’s a Wednesday night, the second of July. The street lights are on  and I’m out of breath. When I stopped being I child  I chose to forget some things and others Simply slipped my mind. Like the fact that summer is meant  for nights like this; A carefree and childlike independence. For running in the street and being free. No one to live up to and no one to let down. I think I’ll spend the rest of my summer  chasing this feeling. Running until I can feel my shins split and my heart beat like it’s about to burst. Til i can hear my momma calling me home. I’ll chase it until I’m out of breath and the street lights are on.

Top Recs from @habibah_akila_jamila

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firstly - it’s the natural scent for attraction.
secondly - shows that you’ve been working hard or working out, people, who do that have ambition and great strength.
second and a half - also sweat from dancing or being sexy is cool.
final - just sweating shows that you are a healthy person, your body is working, it’s part of the bodily water cycle.
addition - i‘ve heard that stress sweat is stinky
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they will have a comeback. they’re kind of like a healthier media + it looks swag when i read it in public doesn’t hurt my eyes as much, develops my attention span, cuz it’s not a book, which requires quite a commitment.
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