A dispassionate white sun shone at the summit of the sky. I wanted to hone myself on it till I grew saintly and thin and essential as the blade of a knife.
Monday, April 21, 2014
Miss Eyre
“I can live alone, if self-respect, and circumstances require me so to do. I need not sell my soul to buy bliss. I have an inward treasure born with me, which can keep me alive if all extraneous delights should be withheld, or offered only at a price I cannot afford to give.”
hi, with warning. i am entirely damaged and crazy with masochistic tendencies and an addictive self-destructive personality. but i am in the trials of self-recovery- though thoroughly failing in the process, here's to hoping- one day- someday. in form of pure tried articulation of the written word, this space keeps the highly erratic and darkly emotional self reflection of my contemplative life with bits of sunshine scattered in between. i am a mess; i absolutely create disasters and inevitably fuck everything up. so decide if you are one who actually thinks and chooses for his own mind or one who is fated to predestined cowardice, forever running away like the rest of the narrow minded sheep in this world and unable to embrace the violent and bittersweet storm of harsh realness.
Sylvia Plath:The Bell Jar Janet Fitch: Paint It Black Suki Kim:The Interpreter Charles Bukowski: Sifting Through The Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way.
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