Emily Austin

Everyone in This Room Will Someday Be Dead

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  • trexhas quoted2 years ago
    I’ve got it all figured out. We’re a parasite. Other animals on this planet coexist with nature. We don’t; we’re like scabies. Tiny mites covering the outer layer of earth, burrowing into it, infecting it. We are like tapeworm
  • Minahas quoted2 years ago
    I felt like I was never in the moment I was in. I was always looking back, or
    worried about the future
  • Inerciahas quoted3 days ago
    “How do I occupy myself?”
    “I find I feel less anxious when I spend my time trying to make the people around me happier,” he shares. “Maybe you should try that.”
  • Inerciahas quoted3 days ago
    We laugh; we make involuntary sounds when we find things funny. Laughing is adorable, if you really think about it.
  • Inerciahas quoted14 days ago
    “What about you? What happened to you?”
    I pause.
    “I’m dying.”
    He makes a face. “You’re dying?”
    I nod.
    He exhales. “Yikes. How long do you have?”
    I answer gravely. “I have no idea.”
  • Inerciahas quoted14 days ago
    “One day I am going to die,” my internal dialogue asserts. That reality reverberates in my skull like a shriek in a cave. I am going to experience whatever it feels like for my life force to finish. Face it. Whatever animates my body will stop. Black. Nothing. That isn’t just some alarming scary-movie fear; it’s true. People will have to deal with my corpse.
  • Inerciahas quoted14 days ago
    I can’t get a pet because one day it would die, and I doubt I’d recover.
  • Inerciahas quoted14 days ago
    “Garbage is more lasting than people.”

    There is a palpable silence.

    I reach toward the coffee on the table. I pick up one of the white Styrofoam cups.

    “I wonder if this cup will be on the earth longer than I will,” I consider out loud, while I struggle to pour myself some burnt-smelling coffee.
  • Inerciahas quoted16 days ago
    I’m pretty sure I captioned that photo “Me and my girlfriend (we’re gay).”
  • Inerciahas quoted17 days ago
    It must be difficult to be a baby. Everything must be so confusing.
    “It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.”
    That baby has no idea why her parents put her in that uncomfortable outfit. She doesn’t anticipate that an old man in a robe is going to dunk her head underwater today.
    I stare at her pink face as she screams. I relate to her. She’s uncomfortable and confused, just like I am. Why am I here? Why are you doing this to me? Why are we wearing these ridiculous clothes?
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