"—until there were too many kisses to count or remember, and the memory of love proved not love at all and needed a replacement, which our bodies found, and then the giggles subsided, and the laughter dimmed, and darkness enfolded all of us and we gave away our childhood for nothing and we died —" — Mark Z. Danielewski, House of Leaves
"You don't write anymore? There hasn't been anything I've wanted to say. After all you've seen, after all you've been though, darling? - I've lost the knack of making sense." — Kurt Vonnegut, from Mother Night; "The Contents of an Old Trunk"
what do you do when you can't find the words anymore
i'm really just made of nothing more than borrowed words and beautiful run-on lines that sound so lovely to the ear but really mean nothing like some sort of a superficial comfort and perhaps that's all that i've become — hollow
No comments:
Post a Comment