Riuscivo sempre ad essere forte per gli altri ma non lo sono mai stata nemmeno un secondo per me stessa.
Amorosus semper est timorosus.
Chi ama ha sempre paura.
a series of
and large defeats
and I am as
as any other
I have gotten
from there to
I’m always soft for you, that’s the problem. You could come knocking on my door five years from now and I would open my arms wider and say ‘come here, it’s been too long, it felt like home with you.’
Will you come with me to the mountains? It will hurt at first, until your feet are hardened. Reality is harsh to the feet of shadows. But will you come?
There are times when you don’t know yourself. There are times when you don’t want to know yourself. There are times when you want to be what you have never allowed yourself to be before.
On your face there is something like the promise of a storm: one day passion will burn it to the bone.
Reading is performance. The reader— the child under the blanket with a flashlight, the woman at the kitchen table, the man at the library desk— performs the work. The performance is silent. The readers hear the sounds of the words and the beat of the sentences only in their inner ear. Silent drummers on noiseless drums. An amazing performance in an amazing theater.