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I don’t know what it’s like for other people but love and nausea are often indistinguishable to me.
When people say something is “unthinkable,” what they usually mean is that they don’t want to think it. They are resistant to an idea. But that is not what unthinkable means. I understand that, now. It means to be confronted with a thought so vast, dark, and monstrous that it will not fit into any known shapes in your mind. It is poison and madness flowering behind your eyes.
It’s possible to feel the horror of something and to accept it all at the same time. How else could we cope with being alive?
