literature

And everyone else grew up

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By melladh
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Literature Text

Memories of old,
of writing haikus all night,
haunt this lonely mind

"Suggest a new theme -
We'll both write one and then share,
so we won't get bored"

1AM, 2, 3
eventually take our leave,
but return again:

Next night, much the same
Oh how different things were then
alone in the night.
Back in the day, we were all on chat. Christmas was still more quiet, but never lonely. I would sit in my grandmother's living room with my school laptop, night and snow and cold outside, and only the ticking of the wall mounted pendulum clock inside. Every now and then the old house would creak, and one by one even my online people would go to bed, until only us few remained, and we existed only as minds, our physical form left behind.

One or two, always there.

I've grown away from it too, at times, and not been here when others missed me.

And other times, I'm the only one around.

Psychosis was harder then. But at least it promised to go away with age. All you had to do was survive.

Now?
Now...
Published:
© 2017 - 2021 melladh
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