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a body expending so much effort trying to escape from something he could never put words to.
I like to imagine how it would have been for him, stepping out of the train station at Arles into such an intense yellow light. It changed him. How could it not? How could it not change anyone?
how cruel it was that our plans were out there somewhere. Another version of our future, out there somewhere, in perpetual orbit.
sometimes I feel as if my veins are leaking, as if my body is overwhelmed, as if I’m drowning from the inside.
