I just wanted to share this great piece of writing from HIJACKED AMYGDALA.
I am standing on the roof. I am smoking a cigarette. I should be at work but I am too sad. I can see your house. I don’t live there anymore. I am wearing your sweatpants and I am very tired. I walk towards the edge and the ends of your trousers dredge quietly through yesterday’s puddles. I rest my arms on the barrier that is not high enough to prevent someone from climbing over it and jumping, but just high enough to prevent someone falling over the side by accident. High enough.
I am standing on the roof. I am smoking another cigarette. I am thinking about everything and nothing, all at once. I think my brain is broken. I drop the cigarette butt over the edge and I watch it free fall through ideas of time and space and memory and as it falls I lean over…
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