Purplish Abyss

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I haven’t been writing. Not as much as I usually do, at least. I’m afraid that, if I write, then I must think, and there are things I’d rather not think about. There was a point in time where it was fun, amusing, almost better to get stuck in my head, to loop around my thoughts and introspect to the point of madness. But nowadays, it is easier to turn outwards. I can watch comedies, play pinball, drink boozy shakes and sing loudly in the back of cars to indie pop I listened to in middle school. And I can do all of that without thinking.

What I am trying not to face: a lurking purplish abyss. It sits in my chest. It rises at the prospect of change. Of goodbye’s, packed bags, new cities, separation, winters, fluorescent lights. Of time passing by too slowly. I see myself trudging through snow, finding pockets of peace, but also succumbing to the abyss. I don’t want to, clearly, and most of the time, I don’t, but it’s growing louder. This, now I know, is the cost of attachment, of love, of care, of connection, of all the soft squishy-icky-gooey things of cotton-candy existence. Indifference renders you apathetic. But things akin to the four-lettered-word, they’ll leave you with every variation of human emotion. (That, I guess, is the price we pay.)

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3 thoughts on “Purplish Abyss

  1. rmcalzada August 8, 2017 / 9:27 pm

    It’s a price that’s certainly not always easy to pay. I like to think that, in the end, once the bad and good times balance out more evenly, it will all have been worth it 🙂 So I keep writing.

    Thank you for sharing your thoughts!

    Like

  2. thelettergallery August 9, 2017 / 5:13 pm

    Hi Lu I don’t know what to call you though! Cool peppermint? But I love your writings! They’re amazing! I do write too! Can we be friends? Also can u please share your Instagram handle incase you post any poems or writings there. I’ll be glad if you get back to me.

    Sandra

    Sent from my iPhone

    >

    Like

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