The thought struck me.

I was sitting on the green, surrounded by sunshine, a calm wind, and the buzzing of some curious bees. I had finished the final flick of the rough pages of the latest novel I’d absorbed, hugging it to my chest.

My stomach dropped.

I watched a security guard cycle past on the new bikes they had trained on; I remembered the friendly security guard who said hello to me as I worked at graduation. But why were they there?

The thought hit me like a bullet.

I had been in a large crowd full of happy students. A large crowd in a country where there have been numerous attacks on the public: mass killings, slayings, attacks, threats. Bombs, guns, knives.

Not to mention the everyday dangers that exist all the time: Buses, trams, trains. Tripping on the road in front of a car. Accidents; deliberate actions.

The bullet penetrated my brain and my heart joined my stomach in the inner turmoil.

Anything can happen and it can happen anytime. Rainy days, the future: what about the sunny days and the present? What about feeling? What about living? What about the point of life? Experience? What about now?

I don’t want to keep it in. I want to express. I want to live. I want to make mistakes and embrace my humanity. I want to learn, I want to love. I want, I want.

I want to embrace you and show you my love. I want to work through things, talk openly and honestly. I want to find solutions to problems, clear hurdles and navigate through treacherous waters with you. I want to come home to you and tell you how annoying you are. I want to kiss you and move with your body. I want, I want.

But the bullet hasn’t hit you. And I don’t know if it will. But still, I want.

Feature photo by Jeremy Bishop on Unsplash

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Mate, who am i?

(I ask myself the same thing)

Travelling can be really hard when you never feel like you're prepared. But, the more I do it the more I realise that being unprepared is the best way to travel. I’m Rowena. I live with depression and an anxiety disorder, which inspires a lot of my writing. My first reaction is to over-pack, over-worry, freak out, and give myself a headache. I’m consciously rebelling against that.

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