January 2012
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But if we could talk, and we could laugh just...
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I learned well how to read thoughts from facial expressions, how immediately to identify with these thoughts, but this mimetic ability to empathize, this desire for otherness, also led to bouts of mental anguish and brought no relief, for I realized I could not be another person, could only appear to be someone else, and total identification was as impossible as fusing my own two halves and...
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“I’m not being condescending. I’m being openly hateful.”
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“Leila alone was satisfied to be born free of man’s tyranny, to be free of...”
– Anais Nin; Delta of Venus
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The subway hurtling to Brooklyn her head on her knees asleep or drugged many sleep the whole way others sit staring holes of fire into the air others plan rebellion: night after night awake in prison, my mind licked at the mattress like a flame till the cellblock went up roaring
-Adrienne Rich
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Your hair is lost in the forest, your feet touching mine. Asleep you are bigger than the night, but your dream fits within this room. How much we are who are so little! Outside a taxi passes with its load of ghosts. The river that runs by is always running back. Will tomorrow be another day? -Octavio Paz
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And I’m gonna quit this crazy scene..
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We have, as they say certain things in common. I mean: a view from a bathroom window over slate to stiff pigeons huddled every morning; the way water tastes from out tap which you marvel at, letting it splash into the glass. Because of you I notice the taste of water, a luxury I might otherwise have missed.
-Adrienne Rich
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“I’m trying to be more delicate.”
“With what?”
“With life.”
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“We’re not kids anymore.” This seems to be one of those statements I only find myself agreeing with if I’m the one saying it.
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I was born to lead two separate lives, or, I should say, the two halves of my divided life lacked harmonious congruity, or, to be still more precise, even if my public life had been the matching half of my secret existence, I would have felt an odd jarring strain between them: it was the quagmire of a guilty conscience, something difficult to negotiate, because my self imposed discipline in public...
