Vijaya Laxmi

“If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.”
― Mik Everett

“Children ceased to be children when you put a sword in their hands. When you taught them to fight a war, then you armed them and put them on the front lines, they were not children anymore. They were soldiers.”
― R.F. Kuang, The Poppy War

“War doesn't determine who's right. War determines who remains.”
― R.F. Kuang, The Poppy War

“Hanged"
I hung myself today. Hanged? Whatever,
the point is I hanged myself today and I’m still
hanging.

I feel fine. Just bored. I keep hoping that
someone will come home and cut me down
but then I keep remembering that if I knew
someone like that I wouldn’t be up here. Bit
ironic, right? Or is that not ironic? I read
somewhere that, like, anything funny is,
in some way, ironic. But I don’t know if it's
funny or not. I don’t think my brain owns
“funny”, you know?

I feel taller. I like that.
I’ve never been away from my shadow for
this long. It had always clung to my feet,
parting momentarily for a quick dive into
the swimming pool. But never for five
hours. I like it. There’s three feet of space
between my two and the floor.

I wanted something this morning. I may be
stuck. But at least I’m three feet closer to it.”
― Bo Burnham, Egghead; or, You Can't Survive on Ideas Alone