Fire swept over her like gasoline to a match

That wasn’t for her she realized, quickly and abruptly

There was no fire there was no passion

There were just boring facts

For waking people up that didn’t want to be awoken

Useless, trivial and with no belief she turned her thoughts elsewhere

To where she, believed

Obsession came in waves

The toilet had started to grow mold ever since decorating with a pot of moss

Signs hung up around her apartment

Reminding her not to give up

What pressure it is to be alive

But what a change of thinking, privilege, can be

Privilege to be alive

To do what she does

To be an expression of her that is uniquely her own

How more beautiful can it be

Energy soared through her like a waterslide

Whishing and whirling enjoyment

Yes, this is it

how to live


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