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May 2018
The realms of day and night splice in front of me. Rubbernecker, you know me well enough to understand that I postpone the transition every evening as long as physically possible. I forbid my eyes to see that which I do not believe in. I forbid my mind to tell stories. I forbid myself to accept that there are things I have to deal with. Do you forbid this too? Was that you, the young man in my dreams last night, who stood next to me and saw that the mountain we had climbed together was incredibly steep and still chose to jump, instead of descending slowly, with me? Why do you not want to descend slowly with me, Rubbernecker? Why does death come after me at night? I could hear the matt smack with which the young man hit a flank. Then I looked up and the blue stared back, emptiness invaded me. I feel invaded. Is death another word for closure? Am I running away from closure? Rubbernecker, do you want to throw yourself of the mountain and close off the blue sky to me?
eight nights (part 7)
Camilla Peeters
Written by
Camilla Peeters  20/F
(20/F)   
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