Cleaning (And Not Drowning In A Pile Of Papers)

Today I decided to clean out my old papers, school work and essays, to get a bit more of a feeling of having my shit together. But for the decluttering to be complete I would also have to sort out my google drive, so that’s what I did.
I deleted a whole bunch of assignments, power points and random shit I’d apparently thought was a great idea to save, and afterwards it felt great.
(It didn’t bring me the false sense of accomplishment I’d hoped it would, but it did feel like I was a bit further away from drowning in old history projects and terrible power points).

While deleting I stumbled upon this old English paper I’d turned in about a year ago, and I thought, why not share it with you guys?
(Though it was really cringy to re-read…)
It’s really fucking dramatic and pretentious, but for some reason I actually kinda like it.
I did what I could, given the assignment and word limit and I’m now putting my exquisite piece of work out there;P

Read it and let me know your thoughts on it.

Space Oddity
It’s nothing like he expects it to be, not that he makes it a habit of imagining himself floating around in Space, waiting for his inevitable death to come, but he didn’t expect this.
It’s not quiet like ‘the Great Infinite Space’ is supposed to be, but it isn’t loud either.
It’s like this weird thing in between.
Being in Space is cold and he feels himself quickly become numb. His spacesuit can only protect him from so much after all.
Some might think that he’ll freak out right now, even say that he has the right to. He’s about to die so it’d be a normal reaction, but he’s actually surprisingly calm and okay. If he has to die one place, this’ll be appropriate.
His entire life and career, dedicated to this unfathomable, giant space and he’s gonna die here. This is where he came from and this is where he’ll go down. Seems fitting.
It starts off with a small buzzing noise in his head, slowly growing louder and louder.
His head feels too small and his breathing starts to become shallow, he can feel the pressure building inside of him.
It feels like he’s about to explode.
It’s a bit ironic really. He’ll go out with a bang just like every other star out there and just like them, no one will notice. The thing is, he won’t be reborn after this, because he’s not a star, he’s a human. And when humans die, they simply just stop existing. Forever.

(The great thing is that I don’t even have to proofread it since my English teacher took care of that. *7,9,13* aka the Danish equivalent to “knock on wood”. It would be really ironic if you now noticed a mistake…
If you do, please don’t mention it. I’d like to rejoice in my smugness a little while longer.)

2 thoughts on “Cleaning (And Not Drowning In A Pile Of Papers)

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