She saw himself in the mirror.

Thursday, January 12, 2017. 8220;Out of pain comes growth. 8220;Can we talk, Rihana? 8221; I cut my eyes at Bashur. 8220;Was all of this, like, a setup? 8221; I asked after he left. 8220;What does that mean? Rihana smiled.

An Analytical View at Literature and Everything Else. In revisiting all three of my papers recently, I happened to discover a common element in the three, a sort-of unstated argument that ran under the surface with all three and a thread that connected them into one.

And that, my friend, is what they call closure. To have let go of You,. Whose affection I craved for. Like a lost nomad,. Longing for water in a desert. Every nerve and fibre of my being. Flaring up under your touch;. I miss huddling up into your warmth,. Looking at the stars, viling time away. To have let go of You,. The same rock that once supported me. I miss a lot of what we had. The fire, the need, the spark;.

I find it strange how so many of us choose to drown in alcohol or stain our lungs with smoke at the dawn of a new year, a time of change, when nothing will ever be the same. I think it tells you something about the way we live our lives, how we persevere, how we exist, how we choose to forget, being at the cusp of having nothing to remember.