So often English glorifies the human—we are whos, other animals are thats—but English puts us beneath the stars, at least.
Eventually, a she showed up. “What’s past is prologue.” WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Seeing your past—or a person from your past—can for me at least be physically painful.
I’m overwhelmed by a melancholic ache—and I want the past back, no matter the cost.
It doesn’t matter that it won’t come back, that it never even actually existed as I remember it—I want it back.
I want things to be like they were, or like I remember them having been: Whole.
But she doesn’t remind me of the past, for some reason. She feels present tense.
The next entry was posted late the night he’d given me the money, and more or less confirmed that the she was me.
“Awake, dear heart, awake. Thou hast slept well. Awake.”
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
I wonder if I fucked it up. But if I hadn’t done it, I’d have wondered something else.
Life is a series of choices between wonders.
전체재생
다음페이지
문장검색