“you’re Never More Alive Than When You’re Almost Dead”

“you’re Never More Alive Than When You’re Almost Dead”

“you’re never more alive than when you’re almost dead”

tim o’brien

More Posts from Ms711us and Others

2 years ago
It’s Three-thirty In The Morning, That’s A Bad Time To Talk About Should-haves And Would-haves -

it’s three-thirty in the morning, that’s a bad time to talk about should-haves and would-haves - needful things


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2 years ago
New York, New York

new york, new york

grand central smelt of pennies, ticket stubs, and desperation at 5:15 am.

"where're you headed?" the worker asked.

where was he headed? he didn’t realize leaving meant going away. but to go far enough to be folded into memory or far enough to be followed? would his wife search for him?

"connecticut.”

no comment; the worker printed a slip and took his money mechanically.

he needed a congratulations, deserved one for his decision. but who would congratulate a man abandoning his wife?


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2 years ago

turtle neck sweaters and steaming mugs of coffee and overcast clouds and leaves of red and yellow and orange and glossy doc martens and red lipstick stains on necks and pinkie promises and crunching strolls on new york city sidewalks


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2 years ago
“one Should Always Be Drunk. That’s All That Matters…but With What? With Wine, With Poetry, Or
“one Should Always Be Drunk. That’s All That Matters…but With What? With Wine, With Poetry, Or

“one should always be drunk. that’s all that matters…but with what? with wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you chose. but get drunk.”


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4 years ago
“we Must Not Always Talk In The Market-place Of What Happens To Us In The Forest,”

“we must not always talk in the market-place of what happens to us in the forest,”


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2 years ago
One Of The Oldest Human Needs Is Having Someone To Wonder Where You Are When You Don't Come Home At Night

one of the oldest human needs is having someone to wonder where you are when you don't come home at night - margaret mead


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3 years ago
It Was Nearly 4 Am As Red Light Streamed Out The Bar, Sifting Through Drunk Legs. It Was Closing Time,

it was nearly 4 am as red light streamed out the bar, sifting through drunk legs. it was closing time, even in new york city.

“let me take you home,” he asked; breath smelling more metallic than his eyebrow piercing.

she smiled into his swirling eyes,

and she was never seen again.

- myra


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ms711us - Raison D'être?
Raison D'être?

xxii | she/her | psychology & creative writing | desperately searching for meaning in the mundane

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