She is a little, tiny pebble amidst the vastness of this vast fucking planet. Air. Earth. Water. And fire. Sometimes everything and at times, nothing. A nothingness that perpetuates the nothingness of the universe that is everything.

Big and small. Big and small.

Tiny tiny. Big big.

Do I matter, then, more than a cockroach? Is my existence more relevant than the rat that scurries through the railway tracks to devour shit and vomit? Am I more significant than the micro-organisms seen or unseen through the naked eyes?

Eyes. Ears. Legs. Fingers. Skin. And Vagina hair.

That is all one is.

Today I breathe, tomorrow I won’t. The ride will halt and the player would exit in all her glory and selective infamy. In a brief moment, a universe would crash and burn in the delirious pool of the dead. The living would continue to torture the living. The living would continue to die while living.

Once it’s all over, they would spit all over her body. The one that has now assumed the shade of blue and purple. Pale white eyeballs would dangle from the sockets like diffused bulbs of an archaic lamppost. Blank and hollow inside. Insignificant from the outside. For in the end, she mattered to nobody. And the thing that wanted her to matter to somebody has left the frame already. Her now defunct body lies under the starry sky. Laying bare her wounds to the soothing smell of Mother Earth. The daughter returns to the womb to find peace at last. And that is how it is supposed to be.

Sweet girl Debora, it is still all fine. Sweet girl Debora don’t shed a tear when you’ve time.

There is plenty to rue in the life afterwards.

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