It is a cruel, cruel business, especially when it is allowed to fester and grow inside you secretly, where it becomes a separate entity from you altogether, rising from the pit of your gut and branching out until it penetrates every nerve in your body, infesting every cell, rising, rising, rising, until you can no longer contain it. There is no escape from this foolishness, no respite from the sharp exhalations of breath, the mad imaginings of things that can never be, the utter hopelessness, and the slow, painful death of your spirit.
What I would give to be young and heartless again.
about me
- Svet
- "We should try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue." - Rainier Maria Rilke