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When the eye fails to recognize colors, and the ear ceases to catch sounds, when the mind doesn’t weave words into something coherent, and the body, shrunken, no longer flinches to escape fear. Then, my life, let me sit in a cozy chair, wrapped in warm light, and once again, let me dive deep into the idealized past. I will return without regret to those faces, voices, and places. I will wait, sitting in my pain, calmly. This departure will take a long while, before I stamp my one-way ticket, and everything becomes simple, unconditional. One day, the stream of my consciousness will dissolve into nothingness. Then, my soul, let me— in a gentler version than it was in reality— settle discreetly and painlessly in the memories of those dear to me. I want to be nothing more than a gentle touch of endless, patient love. A quiet presence, a whisper of boundless solace.
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Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 12:34 PM UTC
Farewells
When the eye fails to recognize colors, and the ear ceases to catch sounds, when the mind doesn’t weave words into something coherent, and the body, shrunken, no longer flinches to escape fear. Then, my life, let me sit in a cozy chair, wrapped in warm light, and once again, let me dive deep into the idealized past. I will return without regret to those faces, voices, and places. I will wait, sitting in my pain, calmly. This departure will take a long while, before I stamp my one-way ticket, and everything becomes simple, unconditional. One day, the stream of my consciousness will dissolve into nothingness. Then, my soul, let me— in a gentler version than it was in reality— settle discreetly and painlessly in the memories of those dear to me. I want to be nothing more than a gentle touch of endless, patient love. A quiet presence, a whisper of boundless solace.
Agnes-de-Lodz
Written by
48/F/Poland
Mar 15, 2025
Mar 15, 2025 at 12:34 PM UTC
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