emiminni

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

There I am, captured—my true self.

The sun has gone down, it's getting dark, and he starts talking to me. Today he doesn't talk about history or astronomy; he talks about man's foolishness, about his great ignorance of spiritual things, about the great disasters that lie ahead. I've heard all this before too. Often he talks to me as if I personally were stagnant, apathetic mankind. I listen to him because he's my teacher. There's strength enough in me to listen and put up with it, for I have an inexhaustible life ahead of me.

Sex must be mixed with tears, laughter, words, promises, scenes, jealousy, envy, all of the spices of fear, foreign travel, new faces, novels, stories, dreams, fantasies, music, dancing, opium, wine.

“I’m dreaming dreams, and the dreams I dream like pearls in the darkness gleam”

The world is violent and mercurial — it will have its way with you. We are saved only by love — love for each other and the love that we pour into the art we feel compelled to share: being a parent; being a writer; being a painter; being a friend. We live in a perpetually burning building, and what we must save from it, all the time, is love.

“It is late now, I am a bit tired; the sky is irritated by stars…I love you, I love you, I love you…”

“She’s never where she is. She’s only inside her head.”

“I love till I die.”