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I don’t understand why more people don’t realize soon we’ll all be dust. I mean really, this whole experience we’re having ends with each and every single one of us decomposing or being incinerated. It’s just a matter of time really, and now that we’ve entered into apocalypse territory it could be sooner than later. If you’re lucky it’ll be quick, but more than likely for many of us it will be long and slow as we watch our species and all the others slowly die. But whether our demise is near or far, the result is the same —…

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A Note: This article discusses addiction, drinking, drug use, and my very own deeply personal, non-professional take on it. I encourage any and all who read this to take it with a grain of salt, and as another person’s perspective on their own experience.

A year and some months ago I gave up alcohol. After 15 years of getting loaded, causing black outs, crippling shame, and a general self-loathing, I’d had enough. There was no grand-finale-rock-bottom moment where I saw the light and knew it was the end. Honestly, my rock bottom wasn’t really a rock bottom at all —…

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I’ve been visiting the nihilism subreddit lately to learn more about how to be a better nihilist without having read a full book of Nietzsche (I’m a poser, I know this, he’s on the reading list mmkay). I’m glad my need to fit in directed me there because after some investigating, I realized the nihilism subreddit is actually where souls go to die. There is a lot of great info in there from I’m sure great, brilliant people, but there’s also a looming sadness that hangs over many of the conversations. …

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There are many things I want to say, and I don’t know how to say them. So I write them instead.

What do I know? I’m just billions of years of evolution, just like everyone else; like every-thing else. What do I know? I’m trying to keep up in this world, and I tell myself it’s a lot. I tell myself it’s hard, and I’ve believed it.

I know I have it mostly good. By mostly good, I mean there are probably some people in some lives who would kill for mine. And I’m not rich. I don’t have a…

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I’ve been alcohol free for just over a year now.

This is a huge feat. To give up a substance in a society who’s obsessed with it is no easy task. There was much discomfort from the shifting of friend/relationship dynamics, and sitting in all of the feelings I was using alcohol to avoid. I mean, as someone who drank heavily for nearly 15 years, there was a long time I did not believe I even could do this. You must give up more than the substance after all, there is the drinking identity you must surrender as well. …

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I can’t believe it’s been one year since I last had a sip of alcohol.

Since I last blacked out, and couldn’t remember what I said or to whom. Since I fell down in the subway and needed help up. I can’t believe it’s been over a year since I last finished a bottle of wine to myself, prank phone called my then boyfriend for not returning my texts, and sobbed in my windowsill through wine-stained teeth. (Hint — we broke up.) I can’t believe it’s been over a year since I walked away from the only identity I knew and loved (and hated), but sensed on some primordial, cosmic level I was outgrowing.


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I stumbled onto some words the other day that stirred me.

Do you feel real to yourself or do you not exist unless another person affirms your existence for you? (from Yumi Sakugawa)

I stared at the screen blankly, yet bewildered.

Do I feel real to myself? Do I need other people’s affirmations of my existence to believe I do? This wasn’t a question I seriously considered before. Although, the denial of myself is something I’m very familiar with. …

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I want to write this, and I don’t fully know what to say.

I am no expert, in fact I’m newer to this space — the social justice* space. And yet, something is telling me to speak, to write. And when that happens, I always listen. This is from a white perspective, as all of my writing is, because I am. Full disclaimer: it’s one that’s both privileged and likely lacking, however I don’t view my lack as a negative, because it leaves space for expansion. Expansion (or an openness) is vital to understanding our role in the world, so maybe it’s not a lacking so much, as a not-quite-there yet. Still, I…

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Sometimes they fall short in describing this experience we’re having. Sometimes we need a series of words. Sometimes one is plenty. And sometimes in truly sacred moments, there are no words. I rather appreciate when life leaves me speechless, since my mind is always blabbering on about everything. It’s always ripping things apart, then trying to mend them back together; how it should be, how it could be, how it would’ve been. It’s exhausting in my mind to say the least. But I accept my thinking nature as more of a gift than a curse, I’ve just had to learn…

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I was almost there, to that place. The place I thought I was going.

Everything seemed to be falling into it. Everything was going well. All the signs were adding up. I was finally learning to flow with life. And then! Corona graced us with her presence. And everything changed.

Suddenly I’m not working. I’m not making an income. The summer I planned to have socializing in NY, doing anything I please, is dissipating as rapidly as toilet paper from shelves. All of the plans I was making for my so-called-life have suddenly come to a screeching halt. I thought about panicking, but I really just didn’t want to.

Samantha Morgan

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