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Why not celebrate your bad day?

Here is one poem from Lucille Clifton poem, “won’t you celebrate with me,”that I just read it from a website: won’t you celebrate with me
what i have shaped into
a kind of life? i had no model.
born in babylon
both nonwhite and woman
what did i see to be except myself?
i made it up
here on this bridge between
starshine and clay,
my one hand holding tight
my other hand; come celebrate
with me that everyday
something has tried to kill me
and has failed.
How strong the punch was hit on my heart after reading it. Tears soon followed. The poem reminded me that around these two months. I was struggling in “looking for everything” including looking for new place, new social group, new weekend job except the editor. And frineds around me somehow even ask me to “look for “ a boyfriend. I know they were just joking but you know when your heart is weak, anything small could stuck your mind and breath. At the time, I started to complained and doubted my ability or personality because it took me so long to look …

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