Nóra Ugron > Recent Status Updates

I look at you, Red, and see much of myself: a desire to be apart, sometimes, to understand who I am without the rest. And what I return to, the me-ness that I know as pure, inescapable self... is hunger. Desire. Longing, this longing to possess, to become, to break like a wave on a rock and reform, and break again, and wash away. (p. 72)

But hunger is a manysplendoured thing; it needn't be conceived only in limbic terms, in biology. Hunger, Red - to sate a hunger or to stoke it, to feel hunger as a furnace, to trace its edges like teeth - is this a thing you, singly, know? Have you ever had a hunger that whetted itself on what you fed it, sharpened so keen and bright that it might split you open, break a new thing out? (p. 53-54)