#on understanding

I wanted to explain myself to myself in an understandable way. I gave shape to my fears and made excuses. I varied my velocities, watched myselves sleep. Something’s not right about what I’m doing but I’m still doing it— living in the worst parts, ruining myself. My inner life is a sheet of black glass. If I fell through the floor I would keep falling.

It wasn't only wickedness and scheming that made people unhappy, it was confusion and misunderstanding; above all, it was the failure to grasp the simple truth that other people are as real as you.

If those whom we begin to love could know us as we were before meeting them … they could perceive what they have made of us.