The fault in our stars

First of all, the title of this blog post has nothing to do with it’s content. It just feels right.

Second of all, I’m sorry.

Thirdly, (my English teacher told me this was wrong to use, but here I am. Thirdlyyyyy) I’m currently battling sore throat, (it’s not corona I promise). Thirdly, this is the main point of the thirdly, stay with me. Thirdly, this post is something that has been on my mind for the longest. I’ll tell you why later. Just read.

Warning ⚠️ : you may/may not encounter a series of typographical errors. There are two reasons why. First is , I already posted it on Instagram. Second is, I copied it from my notepad and pasted it here. I love you.

*******

I think about dying/death more than I think about living/life. No suicidal shit (maybe a sprinkle of it ). Technically, you can’t think of one without thinking of the other.

I think about the things people would say about me when I die, the good and the bad stuff too because you know, sometimes I’m the villain . I think about the things the people I’ve not spoken to in a long time would say,( Heck that’s if they are present at the burial or whatever) and those that we never talked (example, the hundred and something people who are going to like this post) would say.

I also think about those people who have passed away and how I treated our last meeting. Was I a good person to them? Was I the villain? (The chances of me being the villain are very slim btw). Most importantly if they meant a lot to me, did I tell them that? If they had a tiny tiny significance in my life , did I tell them how much I appreciated that? When I tell stories of those people , the nice things I say, did they ever hear it from me? (And the insults too)

I think about the people I’m close to too. Do I really matter? It is said to leave matter for Matthias.

In conclusion , I’d start telling people how much they mean to me, how pretty their hair is, how them dey make my heart go tungba. I don’t want to recite a speech about how I feel about anyone without them knowing how I already feel because what’s the point of a speech at their burial (or a thread of how I feel) when they can’t hear it or when they’ve never heard me say it when they were breathing ? I think they’d be more content knowing I loved them with my whole heart while they lived, even until death.

You should take my conclusion seriously because why not?

Here’s a pretty picture of me, as bribe for ghosting. I hope it works.
P.s This picture looked cuter last month.

See ya!

Falomz ✨

1 thought on “The fault in our stars”

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