(no subject)
"I dreamt four nights ago of clock hands descending from the universe like rain, of the moon as a green eye, of mirrors and insects, of a love that never withdrew. It was not the feeling of completeness that I so needed, but the feeling of not being empty."
"We burned with love for ourselves, all of us, starters of the fire we suffered- our love was the affliction for which only our lovewas the cure..."
"Brod discovered 613 sadnessess, each perfectly unique, each a singular emotion, no more similar to any other sadness than to anger, ecstacy, guilt, or frustration. Mirror Sadness. Sadness of Domesticated Birds. Sadness of Being Sad in Front of One's Parent. Humor Sadness. Sadness of Love Without Release."
"Bark-brown fence post: I don't love you. Poem too long: I don't love you. Lunch in a bowl: I don't love you. Physics, the idea of you, the laws of you: I don't love you. Nothing felt like anything more than what it actually was. Everything was just a thing, mired completely in its thingness."
"But more than that, no unloving words were ever spoken and everything was held up as another small piece of proof that it can be this way, it doesn't have to be that way; if there is no love in the world, we will make a new world, and we will give it heavy walls, and we will furnish it with soft red interiors, from the inside out, and give it a knocker that resonates like a diamond falling to a jewler's felt so that we should never hear it. Love me, because love doesn't exist, and I have tried everything that does."
"We burned with love for ourselves, all of us, starters of the fire we suffered- our love was the affliction for which only our lovewas the cure..."
"Brod discovered 613 sadnessess, each perfectly unique, each a singular emotion, no more similar to any other sadness than to anger, ecstacy, guilt, or frustration. Mirror Sadness. Sadness of Domesticated Birds. Sadness of Being Sad in Front of One's Parent. Humor Sadness. Sadness of Love Without Release."
"Bark-brown fence post: I don't love you. Poem too long: I don't love you. Lunch in a bowl: I don't love you. Physics, the idea of you, the laws of you: I don't love you. Nothing felt like anything more than what it actually was. Everything was just a thing, mired completely in its thingness."
"But more than that, no unloving words were ever spoken and everything was held up as another small piece of proof that it can be this way, it doesn't have to be that way; if there is no love in the world, we will make a new world, and we will give it heavy walls, and we will furnish it with soft red interiors, from the inside out, and give it a knocker that resonates like a diamond falling to a jewler's felt so that we should never hear it. Love me, because love doesn't exist, and I have tried everything that does."