September 2011
3 posts
“Sometimes, however, this sense of isolation, like acid spilling out of a bottle,...”
– Haruki Murakami (via funeral)
“Let me die the moment my love dies.
Let me not outlive my own capacity to love....”
– Mary Zimmerman (Metamorphoses: A Play)
ambedo
dictionaryofobscuresorrows:
n. a kind of melacholic trance in which you become completely absorbed in vivid sensory details—raindrops skittering down a window, tall trees leaning in the wind, clouds of cream swirling in your coffee—which leads to a dawning awareness of the haunting fragility of life, a mood whose only known cure is the vuvuzela.