Apologies to myself for the lack of writing
But right now things are unraveling in reality
And they need my full attention
A lot of knots are untwisting and I’m finding the space to mentally expand myself
And anyway, I’ll probably write about it later
I looked up and there it was
among the green branches of the pitch pines—
a ruffle of fire trailing over the shoulders and down the back—
color of copper, iron, bronze—
lighting up the dark branches of the pine.
What misery to be afraid of death.
What wretchedness, to believe only in what can be proven.
When I made a little sound
it looked at me, then it looked past me.
Then it rose, the wings enormous and opulent,
and, as I said, wreathed in fire.
I love eating but sometimes I want to eat all my nutrients like a dog. One meal a day, all kibble.
Jorge Luis Borges (via fables-of-the-reconstruction)
Marya Hornbacher (via rauchwolken)
Legături bolnăvicioase (Love Sick)