i know the book i want to write. i want to let others know, if they ever might find it, or feel it: They are not alone. We are not alone.
nothing can remove your spark. nothing. nothing. nothing. nothing. Nothing.
i'll write the book where we're all so alone, trying to be less alone, and hope can only come from every fresh wreck, vibrant wound. when we keep our hands still in the water, our necks beneath the blade. when the whole world is crushing us in, breaking our bones down to the corner, and still we fucking spark.
i'll write the book. i'll apply for the job.
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