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Dead end
Full stop
No more words
No more nothing

We said goodbye for the last time the way we always say goodbye for the last time but this time it was serious and I felt it in the way you made love to me, it was in your eyes, in your touch, gentle, sad, farewell, I love you, always.

De zon staat op het dorp in de vallei terwijl wij doorploeteren in de natte klei van de zonnebloemberg. Er zit een steentje in mijn schoen.

Mensen laten stukjes van zichzellf achter op de camino. Een boek, een tent, een veldfles. We worden lichter naarmate santiago nadert. Ik laat John Steinbeck achter op een routepaal, begraven onder een stapeltje stenen.

vickyjaneandtheflashbacks:

Ladies and gentlemen, we will now take a 20 minute break to watch an episode of an animated series called Bob’s Burgers and to smoke half of a broken cigarette I keep hidden in my drawer for emergencies. Thank you for your patience. 

My friend Vicky writes.

Thirty

I look at myself in the mirror, traces of wear and tear, decay. Shallow lines next to my eyes, very subtle, but still there, my breasts less firm than they used to be, my stomach, my arms, my tired face. I stare at my naked body, the body that used to have a boyish youthfulness over it. I stare at my body and it scares the shit out of me.

A poem on the bus

Shallow breaths at the traffic light. The muscles in her face looked tight while the city buzzed around her. People like ants, pink cheeks, a bright summer’s dress in a sea of black suits and ties. Her scream doesn’t quite reach the surface. Shallow breaths. People like ants. The city chews her up, spits her out. Shallow breaths, shallow breaths.