“I sit watching the brown oceanic waves of dry country rising into the foothills and I weep monotonously, seasickly. Life is not like the dim ironic stories I like to read, it is like a daytime serial on television. The banality will make you weep as much as anything else.”
“She had the perpetual sense, as she watched the taxi cabs, of being out, out, far out to sea and alone; she always had the feeling that it was very, very, dangerous to live even one day.”
“I patch together a living language out of reanimated parts, like Frankenstein, and feel no disgust at scrabbling in the charnel house. Each of us makes her own monster, who earns a cozy co-tenancy of our tomb. We’re all the last native speakers of a language that dies with us. Am I so special for tasting the rot on my tongue? For knowing whose remains I’m kitted out in?”
Painted Ladies & Shameless Rakes
— 5 members
— last activity Mar 13, 2008 09:01PM
They say we're boring her camera: it takes more to delight the cadaver. ... There's only now, no ever after; we won't let it end in disaster. You areThey say we're boring her camera:
it takes more to delight the cadaver.
There's only now, no ever after;
we won't let it end in disaster.
You are our twins -- no, we will never go there.