my fav excerpts

b o o k s & f a n f i c t i o n

[losingmyselfinsleep]

anyone ever got the urge to write a fanfic based on your fav book then you did some research by re-reading the very book and ended up not writing what you intended to because now you got a new fanfic idea for that book that required you to do more research by re-reading the book again so-

[losingmyselfinsleep]

Somehow I can’t write about anything but what concerns us and us alone, in the middle of the crowded world. Everything else is foreign to me. Wrong! Wrong! But my lips are babbling and my face is lying in your lap.

Letters to Milena,Franz Kafka

[losingmyselfinsleep]

How do you love?

Like a fist. Like a knife.

But I want to be more like a weed,

a small frog trembling in air.

THE GOOD FIGHT, Ada Limón

[losingmyselfinsleep]

When the plane went down in San Francisco,

I thought of my friend M. He’s obsessed with plane crashes.

He memorizes the wrecked metal details,

the clear cool skies cut by black scars of smoke.

Once, while driving, he told me about all the crashes:

The one in blue Kentucky, in yellow Iowa.

How people go on, and how people don’t.

It was almost a year before I learned

that his brother was a pilot.

I can’t help it,

I love the way men love.

“ACCIDENT REPORT IN THE TALL, TALL WEEDS” - Ada Limón

[losingmyselfinsleep]

Boot Theory, Richard Siken

[losingmyselfinsleep]

I conjure the boy I knew. Achilles, grinning as the figs blur in his hands. His green eyes laughing into mine. Catch, he says. Achilles, outlined against the sky, hanging from a branch over the river. The thick warmth of his sleepy breath against my ear. If you have to go, I will go with you. My fears forgotten in the golden harbor of his arms.

[losingmyselfinsleep]

Tell me about your books, your visions made of flesh and light

[losingmyselfinsleep]

I guess what I mean is that sometimes I don’t know what or who we are. Days I feel like a human being, while other days I feel more like a sound. I touch the world not as myself but as an echo of who I was. Can you hear me yet? Can you read me?

On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous, Ocean Vuong

[losingmyselfinsleep]

But love is impossible and it goes on

despite the impossible. You’re the muscle

I cut from the bone and still the bone

remembers, still it wants (so much, it wants)

the flesh back, the real thing,

if only to rail against it, if only

to argue and fight, if only to miss

a solve-able absence.

IN A MEXICAN RESTAURANT I RECALL HOW MUCH YOU UPSET ME//Ada Limón

[losingmyselfinsleep]

“I wish he had let you all die.”

The Song of Achilles

[losingmyselfinsleep]

Your rank and wealth, Harry; my brains, such as they are – my art, whatever it may be worth; Dorian Gray’s good looks – we shall all suffer for what the gods have given us, suffer terribly.’

When I like people immensely I never tell their names to any one. It is like surrendering a part of them.

‘Harry,’ said Basil Hallward, looking him straight in the face, ‘every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. The sitter is merely the accident, the occasion. It is not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter who, on the coloured canvas, reveals himself. The reason I will not exhibit this picture is that I am afraid that I have shown in it the secret of my own soul.’

‘Every day. I couldn’t be happy if I didn’t see him every day. He is absolutely necessary to me.’

You might see nothing in him. I see everything in him.

He knows nothing about it. He shall never know anything about it. But the world might guess it; and I will not bare my soul to their shallow, prying eyes. My heart shall never be put under their microscope.

The Picture of Dorian Gray

[losingmyselfinsleep]

Silly me. I thought love was real

& the body imaginary.

Ocean Vuong, Eurydice

[losingmyselfinsleep]

What I mean is: none of this is chaos.

Immigration, cross the river, the blood of us.

It goes like this: water, land, water. Like a waltz.

I am in no hurry to stop believing we are supposed

to sway like this, that we too are immense and calling out.

THE WHALE & THE WALTZ INSIDE OF IT, Ada Limón

[losingmyselfinsleep]

Don’t we touch each other just to prove we are still here?

On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

[losingmyselfinsleep]

we were simply going forward, riotous and windswept,

We are all going forward. None of us are going back.

Oh Please Let it be Lightning/ Ada Limón x Snow and Dirty Rain/ Richard Siken

[losingmyselfinsleep]

Dear Doctor: I am feeling very sick. I have a heart in my stomach which throbs and mocks.

The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath

[losingmyselfinsleep]

“Are you happy you’re back?”

He saw through my question before I did.

“Are you happy I’m back?” he retorted.

Call Me by Your Name