#old authors

[kiarits]

"I have done all the goodbyes. Many departures they have trained me since childhood. But I'll come back again, I'll start again, on my return my gaze is freed. I just have to fill it, and that unapologetic joy of having loved similar things to those absences that make us act".

R. M. Rilke

[sublimegentlemanalpaca]

What to read next.

I finished reading Stardust by Neil Gaiman earlier today. Overall enjoyed it and found it to be quite good..but I think I still prefer the movie a bit for a variety of reasons( which admittedly is just one of my favorite movies). Now the question of what to read next. On the one hand, I could re read some a Pratchett (probably Lords and Ladies, Witches Abroad, Mort, Reaper Man, or Soul Music). Or, I could continue with more Neil Gaiman (Likely Reading Neverwhere). Another posibility is Reading one of my ‘old author books’ like Mysterious Island, Count of Monte Cristo, or heck I might try and tackle the Tolkien stuff on my shelf like LotR...Don’t know! At this point it’s down to either Neverwhere or Count of Monte Cristo. Make of this what you will. Al, the Chronographing Cottager and Prince of Naming

[smart-potatoes]

Due to personal reasons I will have my mom die from birthing me, grow distant from my father, run away with a married man that was expelled from Oxford and my stepsister, stay with the man even after he impregnates me, my sister, and his wife at the same time, have a miscarriage and almost die of hemorrhaging, contract smallpox, and settle in Great Marlow where I will eventually die of a stroke.

[kiarits]

Patti Smith.

© Robert Mapplethorpe

[kiarits]

"God, life is just nothing but loneliness, despite all the opiates, despite the screeching, artificial cheer of aimless parties, despite the fake smile we all wear. And when you finally find someone you feel like you can pour your soul, you suddenly freeze at your own words - you've held them in so long, contracted in the dark, that they're faded, ugly, banal and lame. Yes, there is the joy, the self-realization, the staying together: but the loneliness of the soul, in its dreadful self-awareness, is unbearable, overwhelming".

Sylvia Plath, "Diaries"

[kiarits]

"What, in particular, do you dislike about this life?". "Everything: the constant running, the eternal play of petty passions, above all greed, the need to cut off each other's legs, the gossip, the gossip, the teasing, the eyeballing ; if you listen to conversations, your head is spinning, you feel lightheaded. At first glance, they all seem intelligent to you, you seem to read so much dignity on their faces, but as soon as you listen to them: "They gave this one this one, this one got the contract." "Why, pray tell?" someone shouts. "The one last night at the club lost everything at the game: the other one earned three hundred thousand rubles!". How boring, how boring, how boring!... But where is the man? Where did he hide? how does he get lost in such futilities?' «The world and society also have to take care of something», Stolz said, «everyone has their own interests. That's life...". “The world, society! Maybe you, Andrej, bring me into this world, into this society just to make me stop wanting to associate with them. Life: good life! What is there to look for there? Interests of the spirit or of the heart? So look where is the center around which all this moves: there is no center, there is nothing profound, nothing that reaches the heart. They are all corpses, all asleep worse than me these individuals who live in the world and in society! What drives them in life? Sure, they don't lie down, all day long they rush back and forth like flies, and what's the point? You enter a hall and you never get tired of admiring the symmetry with which the guests are arranged, the calm, thoughtful attitude with which they... play cards. A great purpose of life, no doubt about it! Excellent example for a mind that needs exercise! And these are not corpses? Maybe they don't sleep sitting all their lives? Why should I be more guilty than they, if I lie at home and not rack my brains with jacks and kings and queens?".

I. A. Goncharov, "Oblomov"

[kiarits]

"What we know about ourselves is only a part, and perhaps a very small one, of what we are without knowing it".

Luigi Pirandello

[kiarits]

Luigi Tenco