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sentences from amrit brarβs shitty horoscopes series. you may adjust as needed. part i.
β you might not be afraid to die, but that doesnβt mean youβre ready. β
β you were a plague none were prepared for. β
β you are the mind and the malady, the medicine and the machine. β
β assholery is incurable. unfortunately. β
β no oneβs going to notice the difference between you pushing dandelions or daisies, so leave them something worth talking about. β
β thereβs no rule stating that parasites canβt be pretty. β
β justice: just us. β
β anathema - me without you. β
β you arenβt obligated to be anyoneβs cure. β
β some are the bandage, some are the knife, some get creative.. β
β soothe what you can, fight what you canβt. β
β the only difference between a pathogen and a person is that one is far more creative with how theyβll infect you. β
BOOK IX: THE BODY AND THE WRECKAGE
β stranger things have happened. like you. you are happening all the time and should probably stop. β
β let none be the noose. β
β take what you can and run. β
β gratuitous violence: unnecessary, satisfying, heartbreaking, and so like everything else you love. β
β understanding builds bridges, suffering grows gardens, antipathy sets both on fire for shits and giggles. β
β there is a variety of sadness that makes a home in your guts and never quite leave. β
β you could have been anyone, operating this body. the good news is that you won! the bad news is that youβre stuck with it. β
β being loathsome and lovely in equal measure is probably a talent. somewhere. β
β why fear the dead, when you can fear the living? corpses in motion, cruelty and kindness. β
β if youβre forging your own path, be prepared to light your own pyre. β
β what possessed you to come this far? no, honestly. was it cute? β
β you canβt wrestle apologies from the sea or the sun but by fuck are you every going to try. β
β pick a place and die there. β
β i know you mean well. β
β may fortune favour the fuckups. β
β remarkable that one plane of existence can host so much (and so little) distance. the spaces between people, ideals, fingertips, the sky and the sea. β
β learn itβs best to bite your tongue. temper the nest of hornets in your loveless mouth. β
β i worry. i worry. worry. β
β time sours, rots, renews, sours again. β
β grief and growth live hand-in-hand. β
β sleeping, like dying, delivers you from one world to the next - to rest in crypts and wake in gardens. β
β words in couples carry weight: βfuck you.β βhell no.β βoh god.β βsorry mom.β β
β make room for small, fragile things, even with bones like cement and a leaden heart. β
β you win some, you lose some, you lie, cheat, and swindle some, you vanish on a crisp winterβs day never to be seen again. β
β quiet reflection is next to impossible if you mental landscape is one long scream. β
β you inspire me to be better! a better βwhatβ is up for interpretation. (person? arsonist? alien?) β
β we donβt know where you came form, but we need you to go back. β
β the dark doesnβt intend to hurt you - only the creatures who plot during the cruel, cold light of day. β
β i lived better when i was ignorant of the sun, tucked away in your chest. β
β thereβs asking for forgiveness, thereβs asking for permission, and then thereβs saying βfuck it,β and doing what you may. β
β if only it were easy! to wish and want for nothing. if only you werenβt less human for it - wishing and wanting for nothing. β
β in the end there is no blaze of glory. β
β love to distraction, die due to carelessness. β
β in the span of your life thereβs plenty to avoid: the wicked, the merciless, the things you want for no reason other than wanting them. β
β you are dazzling and terrifying - those words are not as removed from one another as you may think. β
β flirt with death, tease the inevitable, give the void a saucy wink. β
β things to bother believing in: love, switchblades, extraterrestrials. β
β let the record show that they were ill-equipped to deal with you. which is unsurprising, since you ill-equipped to deal with you. β
β youβll be fertilizer regardless, might as well have interesting stories for the dirt. β
β there is an exhaustion that comes with living in an embrace like a vice, a kiss like a canker sore. β
β fear is an absence of understanding. horror is the act of understanding perfectly. β
β to labour in love, to toil in tenderness. β
β your love will always be rooted deeper than any grave. β
β youβve long seen your downfall spelled out in anotherβs bones. β
β the victor spoils, the loser learns. β
β the body is rot waiting to happen. β
β you will have never loved for nothing. β
β the aftermath of you life afford you three real options: obscurity, legend, or horror story. β
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