Hey if you want, drop your insta :)

whats yours

Explanation:

I do have insta, but i aint doin it cuz, someone will say who i am :<

word count 168

serve the people! ,” smoothly translated by julia lovell, offers an initial sample of yan lianke’s writing to an english-speaking audience. a bluntly drawn, mildly erotic fable, it teases mao zedong by poking fun at a true believer who obeys the chairman’s precepts too literally. to a western sensibility, the broad strokes of yan lianke’s humor would seem to pose little risk of inciting rebellion, whether of the flesh or of the body politic. but then, part of the book’s attraction is that it doesn’t have a western sensibility. it lets the reader see — or rather, intuit — what jokes chinese officials don’t consider funny, and how very little it takes for a writer to be branded an incendiary in 21st-century china, more than three decades after the death of mao, a decade after the death of deng xiaoping and seven years since china entered the world trade organization, a move that would seem to signal a willingness (however wary) to mingle with the rest of the world.

(i'm bad at sudden poems so don't yell at me i'm trying to represent sadness or something like that but its real hard)

at the age of 4, she thought everything was better.

she was innocent, she was joyful, despite the predictions about the bad weather.

at the age of 10, she started to figure things out.

in life, in its meaning, she started to doubt.

at the age of 14, she was filled with depression, anxiety and fear,

that nobody cared about her, and death was drawing near.

at the age of 17, her sleeves got longer, her will got shorter, until she couldn't take it anymore.

she left this earth with a rope, chair and to the heavens she would soar.