the-identity-corner

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لن تنضج إلا بعد أن تشعر أن لديك الكثير من الكلام .. لكنك لست بحاجة إلى أن تخبر به أحد.

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“A scientist in his laboratory is not a mere technician: he is also a child confronting natural phenomena that impress him as though they were fairy tales”

— Marie Curie-Skłodowská, Nobel Prize winner in both Physics (1903) and Chemistry (1911)

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This quote made me think of you .

And I hated it .

Because did I ever really know you ?

But I liked what I knew . And I miss it.

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Good omens by Terry Prachett and Neil Gaiman Just to make it clear: I ADORE THIS BOOK #booklover #bibliophile #bookgram #blogge #bibliomania #bookstagram #bookish #bookaddict #bookquotes #books #bookblog #bookstagramal #bookquote #booknerd #booklove #bookaholic #bookworm #bookhoard #literature #literaturequotes #literaturelover #literaturenerd #literatureblog #neilgaimanbooks #neilgaiman #neilgaimanquote #neilgaimanreader #neilgaimanfan @neilhimself @henrikaau @adobecreativeexpress https://www.instagram.com/p/CeCQg4ZIp9M/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

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Her

She would spend the night rolling in her sheet wondering : where has she left her brain? Where are her sky blue thoughts? Where is the music constantly played in her mind?...

She was scared

Scared of the dark surroundering her : Emptiness in her soul

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“The thing is, being lonely is like walking in the cold without a coat. It’s uncomfortable, but eventually you go numb. Once you get used to not being lonely, though, the shock of going back is like having your down comforter yanked off at six o'clock on a Minnesota December morning.”

— Maggie Hall, The Conspiracy of Us

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Sujata Bhatt, from Poppies in translation; “Redness”

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Maybe art...

A book...

Or just peace...

Christian Wiman, from Once in the West; "Music Maybe"

[Text ID: one wants in the end just once to be friend / one's own loneliness, // to make of the ache of inwardness— // something, // music maybe,]

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Louise Glück, Poems 1962-2012

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Anne Robillard , Le Faucheur

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Why is this so true?!

“Every writer I know has trouble writing.”

— Joseph Heller

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العيش هنا و السلام...

bye imma move into a hut and become a forest witch 🧙‍♀️

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She slept profoundly...as if the bed was hugging her. Her face showed signs of a peaceful slumber and her posture was that of a newborn clutching to the sheets surrounding him...

Little did the spectators know that sadder she was, the more she slept...

And she was sleeping her way onto the eternal peace.

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لم يكن التفكير هو ما حرمني النوم. لم أكن أفكر على الإطلاق. كنت مرهقا لدرجة لا أستطيع معها التفكير. لولا أن ذلك الركن الصلب  من رأسي يصرعلى دفع نفسي لذروة النشاط. كنت أشعر بالتوتر و العصبية كما لو كنت أحاول قراءة لوحات المحطات و أنا أطل من قطار سريع. هاهي محطة تقترب. كانت الحروف باهتة. تكاد تقرأ شيئا و لكن السرعة كانت هائلة بما لا يسمح ذلك. تحاول مرة ثانية بينما تدخل المحطة التالية في مجال الرؤية، و لكنك تتجاوزها قبل أن تخرج بأي شيء. ثم كانت المحطة التالية في مجال الرؤية، و لكنك تتجاوزها قبل أن تخرج بأي شيء. ثم كانت المحطة التالية…في وسط اللامكان. كان القطار يطلق صافرته. عالية وخارقة.

هاروكي موراكامي “رقص رقص رقص”