#Alt lit

What are we if not collections of memories? Our existences are stories upon stories upon stories tall, full of every story

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Becoming older didn’t sadden me. The realization that time actually moves made me sad. Years go by and moments become

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Breathe. You are still here. There is still oxygen coursing through your lungs. Your heart is still beating, even if the

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Eschew: God Bless You...

Sometimes you simply don’t flow within the same constellation.

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Keep Calm...

If you see someone falling behind,...