Shit them all festival, laugh at the beautiful

I have this vague memory of a playground experience which I’ll never forget. I was a kid then, under 10 years old. And I was just hanging out at the playground in my neighborhood with my sister. It’s something we used to enjoy doing in the evenings – after the sun wasn’t so hot and before the it set. We would have fun running around, playing on the swings and slides, working up a sweat before we headed back home for dinner.

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We will fuck with consequence

He sat relatively still, typing away on his laptop. In between paragraphs, he took deep breaths from the cigarette resting between his lips.

Typing a few words, and then backspacing, and then typing them again, he looked busy even though he hadn’t written many words in the past ten minutes.

He was reflecting on his life, trying to put down in words how he felt at the moment. It was a mixture of ups and downs. Things weren’t going particularly well, and things weren’t going bad. Things were ‘fine’. How are you doing? Oh, just fine. Fine.

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