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“What if it is experiencing something good and fresh which has become the more traumatic thing. I do not want to be awake to my deadness. I want to remain asleep.
”

“when she posts her father’s roses which she captions, if only these photographs were scented. All I see is the disinheritance and the bloodshed which runs through the land to have made it a quiet and safe place for her, a place of nourishment and sustenance—not a place of abject grief.”

“. I fantasise and fall in love with a version of him I’m not sure exists outside of my imagination. He is constantly failing in comparison to this person I know he could be. If he could only stop being exactly who he is, we could be happy.”

“I don’t come with him, he is not interested in making me come as he feels it is my responsibility to make this happen for myself. My orgasm hovers at the edge but never envelopes me. What I enjoy is having the full glare of his attention on me uninterrupted for four hours which is why I want to keep doing it.”

“It takes me a long time to realise that when the man I want to be with tells me he likes being seen with me in public what he means is, he enjoys what my skin colour says about him to other people.”

“We kiss on the small sofa with the TV off and I am very reluctant to kiss him but I do because he wants me to kiss him and I want him to like me and I’m curious as to where this is going to go but I’m not sure enough about him to fuck him so I kiss him. ”

“I think I am invisible and nothing and ugly and here is this very important person giving me attention. He looks at me like I’m a piece of meat and I like it. It’s getting to the point where I need to leave or fuck him and I don’t want to do either.”

“I instantly lose my confidence and submit myself to what he thinks I should be. I’m not sure if what I want is what I want. I am convinced he knows me best, better than I know myself and because I have resigned the power of my decision making to him, he must be right, I don’t want to be treated like a whore, he’s right, it isn’t me.”

“And I am drenched before I reach the surface. I am drowned before I reach the waterweeds at the bottom. I avoid the glance the river gives me. But it dances on. It has lust for me. I am almost succumbed.”

m am plictisit teribil incat am
fost nevoită sa dau la manele ca sa ma bine dispun si sa ma motivez

“But it is not for her my heart opens and breaks: I die again and again only for myself. For her moving image prevents even my cry to him for help. For even if he loves me, he is in her arms.”

“When I left Ottawa I said, Whom shall I say goodbye to? but could think of no one. Some greet me with genuine smiles, but years of my absence pass without their notice, and my conversation to them seems protestation.”

“Parents’ imaginations build frameworks out of their own hopes and regrets into which children seldom grow, but instead, contrary as trees, lean sideways out of the architecture, blown by a fatal wind their parents never envisaged.”

idk the writing is so
forced

“What is going to happen? Nothing. For everything has happened. All time is now, and time can do no better. Nothing can ever be more now than now, and before this nothing was. There are no minor facts in life, there is only the one tremendous one.”

“My heart is its own destructive. It beats out the poisonous rhythm of the truth.
”

just let it be autumn alreadyyyy

“That part of her that knows it can trust no one and has no friends begs her to keep her peace. But it feels so good to be held, it feels so good to be spoken to like she is capable and wise, to hear her life gain weight, fed by Cascavel. Fed by being seen.”

“Sophia says, and immediately recoils from herself. She cannot understand why she lied, and for the second time in a day. Only that she has, and she cannot take either of them back, and the world is changed because of it.”

“Sophia watches her man eat. His appetite is as enormous as their bed, their table, their chairs, their candlesticks. It gratifies her deepest being. She would rather watch him eat than eat herself, in perfect honesty.”

“He says her name over and over, until it no longer sounds like her name at all, but someone else’s, and for a moment, Sophia could swear it is someone else’s name. Other vowels and other consonants, strangers in the halls of her ears.”

the writing is so good.

" "There's nothing wrong, is there? I haven't done anything wrong, have IP And all the time he was stroking my face with that handkerchief, smothering me.
'We were drunk,' I said. 'We were drunk.' For this seemed, somehow, to explain everything."

"He wanted no distance between us, he wanted me to look on him as a man like myself. But I wanted the merciful distance of father and son, which would have permitted me to love him."

"And then, again, I was undergoing with my father what the very young inevitably undergo with their elders: I was beginning to judge him.
And the very harshness of this judgment, which broke my heart, revealed, though I could not have said it then, how much I had loved him, how that love, along with my inno-cence, was dying."

"Of course, it is somewhere before me, locked in that reflection I am watching in the window as the night comes down outside. It is trapped in the room with me, always has been, and always will be, and it is yet more foreign to me than those foreign hills outside."