I think how the world is still somehow beautiful even when I feel no joy at being alive within it.
Loung Ung
sad nonfiction
I am six years old and instead of celebrating with birthday cakes, I chew on a piece of charcoal.
On previous trips the pirates have stolen valuables, killed people, raped and abducted girls.. The women work frantically to ugly themselves up by smearing black charcoal paste on their faces and bodies. With ashen faces, some of the younger, prettier girls reach into the bags we have vomited into and scoop out handfuls of it to smear on their hair and clothes.
nonfiction
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