Dear Bunny Rabbit,
As you sit there eating that carrot
My canabalistic ways make me want to eat you
But I'm making tea, so it'll have to wait.
Goodbye for now Bunny Rabbit.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
When someone dies.
Yesterday I spent my day with friends. I felt great. Amazing. On my way home I looked out the window to the midnight purple sky and thought "How nice." I felt the pressure of school lift away and the carelessness of summer flood into me. And I smiled.
I was lying under the covers of my bed. My smile stitched upon my face. Then my phone lit up my pitch dark room. I rolled over and reached for my phone. Still horizontal on my bed I opened the message. I saw it was a forward, but decieded to read it any ways. I quickly sat up half way through the message. My smile unstitched. All I could utter was "Fuck."
I began to question the message. It couldn't be true. I quickly began to message the only person I would believe the news from. She confirmed my fears. He's dead. He drowned.
I defiantly began to forward the message. I paused briefly before pressing send, thinking "if I don't send it, it won't be true." But it was. It is. So I pressed send.
I cried openly. Not holding back a single tear, knowing in time, in public, I would have to be strong. Strong and tearless. And once again, as times before, I asked myself: What do I do now? Everything. Nothing. Anything. I'm not so sure anymore.
I've learned many lessons through out my life, though it's not very long. One thing I haven't learned yet is; What do you do when someone dies?
Breathe.
That's the best answer I have so far.
Breathe.
I was lying under the covers of my bed. My smile stitched upon my face. Then my phone lit up my pitch dark room. I rolled over and reached for my phone. Still horizontal on my bed I opened the message. I saw it was a forward, but decieded to read it any ways. I quickly sat up half way through the message. My smile unstitched. All I could utter was "Fuck."
I began to question the message. It couldn't be true. I quickly began to message the only person I would believe the news from. She confirmed my fears. He's dead. He drowned.
I defiantly began to forward the message. I paused briefly before pressing send, thinking "if I don't send it, it won't be true." But it was. It is. So I pressed send.
I cried openly. Not holding back a single tear, knowing in time, in public, I would have to be strong. Strong and tearless. And once again, as times before, I asked myself: What do I do now? Everything. Nothing. Anything. I'm not so sure anymore.
I've learned many lessons through out my life, though it's not very long. One thing I haven't learned yet is; What do you do when someone dies?
Breathe.
That's the best answer I have so far.
Breathe.
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