Flying through this existence as myself I honor all the fierce edges I have made for myself & the conundrums I have made for you. - Alice
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Here I am trying to live, or rather, I am trying to teach the death within me how to live. ici, j'essaye de vivre ou plutôt j'essaye d'apprendre à vivre à la mort que je porte en moi. (*)
- Jean Cocteau to André Gide (after the death of Raymond Radiguet), 1924
It is always hard like this, not having a world, to imagine one, to go to the far edge apart and imagine, to wall whether in or out, to build a kind of cage for the sake of feeling the bars around us, to give shape to a world. And oh, it is always a world and not the world.
I lean outside, toward the warm, dry scent of burning that drifts once in a while through the late spring and summer - into the mild air which unexpectedly blooms with other textures. The wax, brass and polish of the Oratory candles. Church incense. Wood and stone
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