"Find what you love, and let it kill you." -- Bukowski.
I thought, things that we love won't get us killed.
I find it masochistic, the emphasizing period of loving something too hard,
that it makes us sick. Something that is too much is not good, agreed.
Today I lost my voice again, it's husky already but it gets even more now.
I sang my heart out 6 hours this day, straight from three to nine.
My heart is filled with beautiful melodies and happy things.
I also enjoyed every goosebumps one song can bring.
But my throat hurts as fuck now. I need to make an extra effort to even just talk normally.
It's okay, though..
I love singing so much, and I will let it kill me anyway.
You were right, Mr. Bukowski. You were right.
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