I would like a conversation, where we talk about life and living and what it all means. Maybe after, my brain will turn into liquid and drip into dreams.
I’m running towards a finish line I simply can’t see, crowds and crowds of people clapping for their children, and I know my mum is still cheering for me.
Grief sucks but to come out the other side intact, one must go through and accept the process with the courage of a warrior.
I wondered if it would be okay, me living alone. Waking up, cooking, watching TV. I was afraid I would be like that man from Up.
When life slips down the hill, Katie and I often turn to each other and ask each other the same question: What is the point? With our feet slipping, trying to stop everything from falling, our arms aching and our bodies covered in mud, we scream WHAT IS THE POINT IN TRYING SO HARD?