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Writer's pictureUncle.

The Return

Waking up to see a new day is a privilege not many of us are afforded. Simply being we are too poor to die as the rich enjoy the blessings of death. Life’s expenses are vast and yet limited. Limited in the sense that we can only do so much in one day. Try to do anymore and we pay the conductor of life fares in sleep, energy and concentration as we try to continue being a passenger on a wayward bus. Life doesn’t allow for growth , it only fosters the idea of it. As you get older , you seem to get taller and fatter all physical aspects that showcase growth. As you get older you seem to get wiser and more intelligent all mental aspects that emits growth. The fucked up thing is that we think we are growing but we all are shrinking. Shrinking in the likeness of who we once were, we all wanted to be so much things in life but growing up took those dreams away from us. Growing up robbed us of the only thing we had as a child, imagination. Growing up destroyed our innocence and made us believe this was necessary in order to survive.

Growing up is horrible , life is horrible only when we receive the tranquil touch given by merciful and mysterious death will only we return. Return to our innocence , return to where we once came from.

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