#59

She walked through the park holding a box of tissues, her sunglasses covering her swollen eyes. When she had to stop walking because the tears became too thick to breath, she thought:

This is why people still make art. This pain is so cliche and yet it feels like something new and never before felt. And it hurts so much. More than being ashamed of crying in public.

She wished so badly to be a bird. To react only to the present. To not be able to think about what could have happened differently or what might happen or what really happened, or how badly this is going to hurt for so long.

As if on cue, a pigeon swooped down and plucked the wadded up tissue out of her hand and flew off saying: You have to feel the pain, even if you’re a bird.