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Quote by Jayita Bhattacharjee

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Jayita Bhattacharjee

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“Now, it felt like every day a new oozing pustule of emotion came glopping out. One day it was a goopy mass of abandonment issues. Then there was the gelatinous muck of hyper-independence weighing down her proverbial galoshes. The steaming, writhing mass that was her identity crisis was particularly pungent some days. It had come to her attention the hard way that for years her coping mechanism had been to numb herself; turn her emotions off completely. Any that snuck through were instantly squashed under humor, deflection, or anger. A perfect plan, until that damn straw had hit the camel's stupid back.”

“The river runs through me, for the burst of rain from clouds atop, fell to the rivers that rushed to the sea. In it, was the dying of grief. How the clouds of torment die, so the river can rush! So, I float as the clouds of dark to break and become the flow of water. The waters of salt, now they are; the spring water after rain. So I become the mouth of a river longing to meet the sea. The stories buried in my depths, I give out to the world, where nothing remains unremembered.”