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…“THE DEATH OF LOVE OF ANYTHING…”
written on the front of a cute girl's t-shirt.
I hate people who wear sloganed t-shirts
as if it speaks volumes about their “life philosophy.”
The kind of people who might say
“I went to the University of Life” but work in an office.
You cannot experience the death of anything
you live beyond | you cannot experience your own death
& to experience another’s death | well…
we are more often than not horrified by the statistic of it
—the likelihood of it happening to us
or of the proximity of the person in the hierarchy of our relationships.
We don’t expect death to enter so close into our inner circles
Greatness | something (someone) remarkable
a person | thing or idea
may right now be | in just the right juxtapose
—deaf | dumb & blind to themselves
& our superficial predicament—or most likely
a restaurant by the sea.
They’re involved in putting off the day by day
death of themselves for a few more days.
I’m nauseous I must sit down.
What should I do?
Why ask yourself as if another is within you
readying an answer? “We can’t look
in our own eyes | so why
do we think we can look into our own hearts?”
You can with a mirror.
Yoon Yong watches a table of girls
in silence texting | tapping | sharing | making
their presence known to the world
screaming their lungs hoarse to "notice me!"—
…“There are 16 million text messages sent
every minute | 23 billion a day | 8.3 trillion
a year” | according to Google…
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