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Fucked Up College Kids File 508
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= F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. =
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dead man living
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i looked around me and noticed that everything had slowed. the cars had
slowed, as had the people within them. the radio seemed quiet, the breeze
subdued. i looked across my right shoulder at the woman in the car next to
mine. her face was staring forward, frightened, as though the sights to her
left would scar her eyes forever. my car advanced forward in the queue.
i looked across my left shoulder, out the open window. i saw a hand, an
arm, and a white sheet.
the scene around this display was obscured by my focus. i heard no sound
from the sirens, nor from the screaming bodies milling about. this empty
shell on the ground was aside from the noise, the movement. peaceful, and
at rest amongst the chaos behind it.
i had seen an empty shell before that night, but it had never triggered
such a response. i wasn't sad, really. i felt no more connected to this
shell than any of the others i had seen lying vacant before. i guess that
this was the first time i had the consciousness to recognize it. i was
alone, sitting in my car, hands cold on the wheel. i saw across my left
shoulder the contours of a body underneath a white cover. i saw stillness.
i saw a discarded vehicle.
does the soul cast off the mind and the body, discarding them when it's had
enough? or can the body survive without the soul, the mind without the body?
i want to know death well, even become friends. some people stop talking to
god, but who ever starts talking to death? death must be an entity like any
other, and must possess the same spite and jealousy. i want death to know
me. i want death to be my companion, not my shadow.
people talk to god to find out what they are, and why. i don't need to know
what i am. i am, and that is enough. i want to know what i will be.
with my right hand, i silenced the radio. with my right foot, i depressed
the gas pedal. i looked up at the sky, then to my left again. from that
point on, i looked forward.
and i still do.
sarikei
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