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the smell of my sister’s shampoo reaches my nose, and all at once i am five years old again, under the crook of her arm, a book in her hand, as she reads me the tales and woes of junie b. jones.

finding meaning when there was nothing before – isn’t that just the point of the human condition?

there are dull moments with you: waking up beside each other on cold, grey mornings, separating lights and darks for laundry, doing taxes, watching the 6 o’clock news; there are so many dull moments with you, but the dull ones make the bright ones all the brighter.

i have come to the conclusion that though i can live like this, live with this anger and strife and negativity, and the belief that the world is out to get me, approaching the world, arms bared and ready to fight – though i can live like this, i don’t particularly want to.

there is a shining excitement when i think of your name; pride, joy, and absolute ecstasy.

those tiny plants in the cracks of the sidewalk – they’re this little piece of life, grown in the most unexpected place, and sure, they’re not as big as an oak tree or as dainty as an orchid, but they’re still beautiful in their own way; despite the way they get stepped on and rained on, the way the wind hits them and their roots can’t quite dig into the earth, they’re still beautiful.

after everything – the fighting, the screaming, the crying – i am glad we could find our resolution.

One thought on “11. on seven one-sentence thoughts

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