a short story by Giulia Jo Zavaroni.

Now think of that time you woke up at noon, the noise of the city disturbing what was an already profoundly disturbed sleep, populated by demons your own demons, full of nightmares and monsters.

Think of that time you found your palms rashed and didn’t know why, didn’t remember how the drunk fight you’d gotten into had ended up, except you were left with the pain.

Think of how the third, fourth, fifth glass of cheap whiskey burnt your throat so much you couldn’t feel the sixth rushing to your stomach.

Think of the time you pondered suicide and ended up giving up the thought because the world doesn’t need more people suffering in it, so why would you do it.

Think of the time you got home at six a.m. except it wasn’t your house yet it was good enough because you collapsed on the porch, then slept, staggered home.

Think of the crazy satellite staring at you down here, with your idiot face, your rotten insides and wandering mind.

Think of the times you drank and smoked until you couldn’t tell who you were anymore and that’s exactly why you were smoking and drinking in the first place.

Think of the time you wanted so bad to leave and as soon as you found yourself lost you were desperate for a place to call home.

Think of the suburbs, the homeless, the hopeless.

Think of the places that held you captive and changed you, you’re still to understand if for the better or the worse.

Think of the times you almost killed your friends, think of the times your friends killed themselves unknowingly saying a mere yes or no, think of the times you did that to yourself.

Watch the card fortress collapse then say: was it worth it?

all pictures by Hannah Thornhill.

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