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November 25 - December 4, 2020
The problem with my life was that it was someone else’s idea.
“Birds exist to teach us things about the sky.”
Maybe tears were something you caught. Like the flu.
I knew I wasn’t a boy anymore. But I still felt like a boy. Sort of.
Maybe the difference between being a boy and being a man is that boys couldn’t control the awful things they sometimes felt. And men could.
There was something about the sound of a man in pain that resembled the sound of a wounded animal.
