DrMeh

Life is brief. Fall in love, maidens, before the crimson bloom fades from your lips, before the tides of passion cool within you, for those of you who know no tomorrow. My earliest memory is listening to my mother sing this song. My mother was a woman who was not beautiful except for when she sang, so she was always singing. I remember sitting at our kitchen table drawing childish pictures, enjoying her sweet soprano thrum through the walls of the house, glass shaking in the cabinet doors with her powerful vibrato. I remember hating this song. She always laughed when I told her. “I used to hate it too,” she said, which was real

when it begins Diao Chan knew of three ways to break a man's arm and had practiced them all several times in the short course of her life, for the most beautiful woman in China was often also the most harassed. That she knew how to defend herself made the situation twice as intolerable. Broad nails bit into her shoulder as the usurper pressed her to his side, a crude display to the court and his silent, watchful son. Lord Dong Zhuo’s limbs were thicker than most, but she could still punish him. She thought of how satisfying it would be to snap his bones, sink her nails into his eyes and rip through his skull. But purpose was a bitter

I dreamed that I died and it felt like sleeping        without the dreams. I dreamed that I died and all I could think of was           (myself)       the people I left behind;       people I hate, people I love,       people I don't know or maybe I do,          people I don't particularly care about like the way I don't particularly care              &