Clarice Lispector, from Selected Cronicas
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@asterieum
Clarice Lispector, from Selected Cronicas
outcaste·:
@asterites· said:“ i’m on your side. ” at akira :)
❝ how kind of you . ❞ the new god chimes like bells , his shoulders loosening with the arrival of his star upon which brought one of the most amicable and satisfying airs . he’d had nary a single argument from anyone with the way he was running tokyo – then again , perhaps those other thieves were finally indulging in his absolute protection ? he doubted it , somehow , that they would humor such things – they were rebels at heart , even against their own namesake , even against the hand which fed them their praises , the voice that sung their glory . that in mind , she was a cognition entirely original , one who instead sung HIS praise, his hymns , in utter and complete agreement that he could run this city far better than any false god before him ! this was no argument to be made ! he had all the knowledge in the world of the inner workings of mementos , and she was earnest if not entirely truthful ! perhaps that was what made the divine rise from his place , boots clicking on the marble of his palace as it held up their falsified rule . his gloves , dyed red with the blood of those who would threaten this way of life and the lives of those who he was endeared , were warm as they pulled the star downwards to him – it was worthy of his kind words , these tasks ! that was what granted him agency , the knowledge that these actions and requests were dangerous at their core , and the angel without his wings was going to do exactly what he’d do to anyone else who clawed their way through the muck of reality he didn’t want to deal with . ❝ i know you are . oh , i recognize that you are – what in the world would you think could convince me otherwise ? don’t act ignorant of my trust . ❞ for all that it was worth , the shadow gave a genuine smile – he had faith in the ever - special presence of the star .
LIKE A LAMB FOLLOWING IT’S GUIDING SHEPARD , she sees through his cataclysmic distortion and crowns him divine. loyalty spun by the spindle of his creation : a cognitive shadow —— her , borne from his ivory falsehood and taut constellation doused in molten ichor. [ i am by your side ] and starry angel sings her heavenly tune of wondrous delight. this is all she knows , this world of twisted extravagance of holy alters is the only place she shall ever known. yet she hears it too , the sinful hymnals of rebellious claims ; they whisper : this labyrinth / his kingdom was built solely by the carnivorous madness of his lawful despair. she does not see it and what a sweet ignorant seraph she was. watch as she listens and obeys and prays for this fallen paradise of his to remain his eternal glory. ( WAS THIS A BLESSING OR A CURSE ? ) indeed she cannot truly say , but she is bound to him and his guiding hand. FOR THE WORLD OUTSIDE IS A WICKED AND TREACHEROUS PLACE WHO WOULD ONLY DEVOUR THIS FRAGILE AEON OF LIGHT. she cannot exist there.
❝ —— reality is built by greed and deception. mortals lie and they rebel it is a circle of life , but here , you have brought salvation amongst us and i am certain it must not have been easy. ❞ she praises him with a smile akin to the warmth of a burning star. ❝ whatever burden you may bear , i shall bear it with you too. ❞ a simple statement forged by divine prayers , it is a symphony built by forlorn elegance. she is ignorant , but was it such a crime ? she was created by him after all , to embody these heavenly virtues and thus she was no shadow / or perhaps she was still a shadow blinded by the radiance of his magnificent light ? this reality , which is his , was a paradise indeed —— and what an honor it was to oversee it in his name. ❝ no matter what , ❞ she vows , ❝ i will not be so easily corrupted like the others. ❞
You cannot hide behind your husband anymore, Mary Sibley.
Tove Ditlevsen, from a poem featured in There Lives a Young Girl in Me Who Will Not Die: Selected Poems
Makenzie Campbell, from a poem featured in "2 a.m. Thoughts," originally published in 2017
“She has the mysterious solitude of ambiguous states; she hovers in a no-man’s land between life and death, sleeping and waking, —”
— Angela Carter, The Lady of the House of Love; The Bloody Chamber and Other Stories, 1979.
Carol Rifka Brunt, Tell the Wolves I'm Home
Sarah Williams, Twilight Hours
Herman Hesse, Demian (tr. Damion Searls)
— josé olivarez // natalie diaz
coco mellors, cleopatra and frankenstein.
Sinéad O'Connor, from her book titled "Rememberings," originally published in June 2021
I feel pleasantly detached. I could have been well content to take my evening’s pleasure in observation merely. I open my book of astronomy, and dream of the stars a little.
Virginia Woolf, A Passionate Apprentice: The Early Journals 1897-1909
“I like ruins. Real ones, not pretend. Places with atmosphere. And haunted. Somewhere murder and treason happened.”
— Katie Ward, Girl Reading (via soracities)