zeewinchester

[zeewinchester]

Iamtired

I think I was just born to be on my own. It is easy for me to slip through your fingers when no ring resists the fall.

I do not think I was supposed to be filled with such persistent and perpetual melancholia. Why do I have to learn that this is not meant to be in the hardest way possible, there must be some other routes? I am tired of going for the road not taken every single time. For once, I want to drop my bags on someone’s floor and unpack them. I want to hang my clothes in your old-fashioned closet and watch the flimsy straps slip from the plastic hangers. I want to cover your blue Victorian wallpaper with our fake low quality Polaroids, we can laugh about our inability to buy an actual Polaroid camera. I do not want to go back and make any corrections, because I want you to have all of my first thoughts, first drafts, and meaningless phrases.

[zeewinchester]

The oppressor would not be so strong if he did not have accomplices among the oppressed.

—Simone de Beauvoir

[zeewinchester]

At first we cannot see beyond the path that leads downward to dark and hateful things but no light or beauty will ever come from the man who cannot bear this sight. Light is always born of darkness, and the sun never yet stood still in heaven to satisfy man's longing or to still his fears.

Modern Man in Search of a Soul

Carl Jung

[zeewinchester]

hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you

[zeewinchester]

“But when someone’s gone and you’re the primary keeper of his memory — letting go would be a kind of murder, wouldn’t it? I had so much love for him, even if it was a complicated love, and where is all that love supposed to go? He was gone, so it couldn’t change, it couldn’t turn to indifference. I was stuck with all that love.”

— Rebecca Makkai, The Great Believers

[zeewinchester]

“You never know when people’s dreams are connected to you before you’re gone and then there’s nothing to do, but watch them die in a different way, slow, limb by limb, system by system.”

— Marlon James, A Brief History of Seven Killings

[zeewinchester]

“I was always ashamed to take. So I gave. It was not a virtue. It was a disguise.”

— Anaïs Nin, The Diary Of Anais Nin, Vol. 4: 1944-1947