Cutting Someone Off Feels Like Drowning A Puppy


You are drowning a puppy.

You are so tempted to let the puppy live but for some reason you know in your heart that this puppy, however cute and engaging, is toxic.

So it squirms to use its air path, and it struggles hard to win back the right to breathe but slowly it starts to kick less, struggle less, and all at once, its just a body, silent and stiff, still like death, the most hopeless, desolate stillness.

And in the bubbles that emerge at the top, you see the most distant of memories resurface in the final gasps for air.

Pop, pop, pop. 

Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye.


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