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They show us that glory and power are shadows on a wall.
Ok plato i see you
‘That scar, though. It does let you down a bit.’ She stops smiling.
Oi dickhead!
She just keeps wiping the table, but she has one of those faces where the feeling pours out through every feature, and I want to kiss her scar and tell her it’s beautiful, but I do nothing of the sort. Instead, I grab an arm, feel the muscle and say she looks strong, good for threshing wheat, and order a jug of the cheapest.
Special place in hell for people who make their insecurities other peoples problems! Go cry alone in your room at night like a normal person!
‘So,’ says I, ‘we have some fantastic examples of Attic armour to –’
Horrifically ive started to read this like uncle colm
liable to strangeness and sometimes incomprehensibility.
similar has been said about me
Hunger, what an odd thing it is. Is the source of all love a lacking? Is that what creates emotion? Not a presence but an absence. Do you need to be emptied to be filled?
Broken down and starving as they are,
Ok jeff buckley i see you
But this isn’t the silence that comes from comfort, no, it’s that strained silence, where you can feel the throb of the other’s thoughts; stillborn sentences that die on the lips before they’re spoken. I want to speak, but nothing right is coming, and so I just ask her if she’s got another stone in her shoe.
I say words that I hope will give you some of the pain I feel. I’m fucking scum.’
yes
