By Jacob James Grigware We would meet every night after a bullshit day's work. We would laugh at the fact that we don’t have to sleep. Don’t have to eat. Don’t have to get ready for tomorrow's bullshi
By Ella Kang Dear Diary, June 11th, 2025 The indigenous moments of my life, the cold winds callously swaying around my waist, and the infuriating clatters of the disgracefully rusted horseshoe of that
By Matthew Schmidt They say that in their final moments, people relive their lives, revisiting the highs and lows as the brain searches for forgotten knowledge to help it process the unknown feeling
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