#1234.

[holyterrors]

Llegué a abominar de mi cuerpo, llegué a sentir que dos ojos, dos manos, dos pulmones, son tan monstruosos como dos caras. Un irlandés trató de convencerme de la fe del Jesús; me repetía la sentencia de los Goím: Todos los caminos llevan a Roma. De noche, mi delirio se alimentaba de esa metáfora: yo sentía que el mundo es un laberinto, del cual era imposible huir, pues todos los caminos, aunque fingieran ir al norte o al sur, iban realmente a Roma, que era también la cárcel cuadrangular donde agonizaba mi hermano y la quinta de Triste-le Roy.

La muerte y la brújula, 1942 - Jorge Luis Borges

[capasdecebolla]

[holyterrors]

"The new day is almost here. but the old one is stull dragging its heavy skirts. Just as ocean water and river water struggle against each other at a river mouth. The old time and the new time clash and blend. Takahashi is unable to tell for sure wich sideーwich worldー contains his center of gravity.” 

After Dark, Haruki Murakami 

[holyterrors]

[holyterrors]

I never felt  pretty, I don't feel pretty now. I'm not a pretty person. I don't like pretty.  So i don't feel badly, and i think it worked out well because i found that, for instance, all the girls that i know who were very pretty girls and got by their looks, as time went on and they faded... they were nothing. And they were very disappointed. When you're somebody like myself, in order to  get  around and be attractive, you have to develop something, you have to learn something, and you have to do something. So you become a bit more interesting. And when you get older you get by on that. Anyway, i don't happen to like pretty. Most of the world is not with me, but i don't care.

Iris Apfel

[capasdecebolla]

[capasdecebolla]