I've never imagined myself to be safe from the fate of failure, resit, retake. Honest.
One year into this art that Hippocrates honed, the pain of leaving, I can only say, indescribably sharp.
Some of them left, and from then onwards a feeling has been clutching on me, a vague unease,
that found shape when Friend A said:"I lost Friend B in friday, and another one on monday"
news take time to break.
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