bukowski-love-is-a-dog-from-hell.pdf
https://sastracha.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/10/bukowski-love-is-a-dog-from-hell.pdf

The Last Night of the Earth Poems.pdf
https://dn790006.ca.archive.org/0/items/Bukowskicollection/The%20Last%20Night%20of%20the%20Earth%20Poems.pdf

☘Love Is a Dog From Hell (1977)
☘The Last Night of the Earth Poems (1992)
☘What Matters Most Is How Well You Walk Through the Fire

a-room-of-ones-own-virginia-woolf-1929.pdf
https://victorianpersistence.wordpress.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/03/a-room-of-ones-own-virginia-woolf-1929.pdf

The_Stranger_-_Albert_Camus.pdf
https://www.slps.org/site/handlers/filedownload.ashx?moduleinstanceid=27607&dataid=78367&FileName=The%20Stranger%20-%20Albert%20Camus.pdf

Practice 230
S-list 9

Now check the spellings:

shareholder C1
shed
shiver
shock B2
shocked B2
shoplifter
shoplifting
short (as in at short notice) B1
shortage B2
shortlist

Now check the spellings:

schedule B1
scheme B2
scrape through
scratch B2
scream B2
screamplay
screw C1
scroll up/down
scrutinise
scrutiny C1

There are bodies on the ground.
They are dead.
I saw them.
There was blood.
I saw it with my own eyes.
It was dark and cold.
I could not find hope anywhere,
and I no longer wish to search for it.
It is real darkness—
the kind that feels endless,
like a black hole swallowing everything.
I wish I were not alive.
Death feels like a desire.
Living feels like a sin.
I am shattered,
scattered into pieces of myself.

Speech is forbidden.
Emotions are lies.
Loneliness is a virtue.
Wisdom is treated as a sin.
What justice are we searching for?
We are nothing but walking corpses.
Our souls have already died —
only our bodies remain,
moving through the world
without life inside them.

This is what life feels like lately
fractured, restrained, and strangely lifeless.
We move, we speak, we breathe,
yet something inside has already gone quiet.
Not fully broken,
not fully gone
just suspended between existence and absence.
Alive in body,
but elsewhere in spirit.

I am deeply immersed in life,
bewildered by it, yet unable to let it go.
Somewhere along the way, I lost myself.
My emotions have grown silent, my senses distant.
I drift through the days, suspended between existence and absence, wondering whether this is my final chance to stay afloat