cxo

“It ends or it doesn’t. That’s what you say. That’s how you get through it. The tunnel, the night, the pain, the love. It ends or it doesn’t. If the sun never comes up, you find a way to live without it. If they don’t come back, you sleep in the middle of the bed, learn how to make enough coffee for yourself alone. Adapt. Adjust. It ends or it doesn’t. It ends or it doesn’t. We do not perish.”

“Do the gods see us? Will the waters be rising soon? The waters will be rising soon. Find someone or something to cling to.”

“I know / there is violence in all of us”

“(seen 00:57) persephone: i was never a god. the promegranates you gave me were soaked in the ichor none of us wanted to admit was there. i have swallowed plenty; it has been flowing in my veins so rapidly the blood was spat out, reborn. when you stain the canvas with gold it forgets the crimson is still under. (seen 1:00) hades: you were always a queen. i only polished your skin”

“It was like the moment when a bird decides not to eat from your hand, and flies, just before it flies, the moment the rivers seem to still and stop because a storm is coming, but there is no storm, as when a hundred starlings lift and bank together before they wheel and drop, very much like the moment, driving on ice, when it occurs to you your car could spin, just before it slowly begins to spin, like the moment just before you forgot what it was you were about to say, it was like that, and after that, it was still like that, only all the time.”

“I didn’t fall to temptation – I rose to it. I ate that apple because I was hungry. I wanted what lay outside of Paradise, a world without the burden of perfection. Now you call all sinful women my sisters. I say, let them claim their own damn sins. The apple may not be perfect, but it’s mine.”

“I am rain and belong to no one.”

“We must resist. We must refuse to disappear”

Schopenhauer’s paradox: that one lives, in spite of the fact that life is not worth living. Nietzsche’s paradox: the best one can hope for is the worst. Cioran’s paradox: existence has no meaning, and this is meaningful. Pessoa’s paradox: that everything amounts to nothing, and that this itself is something.

“The dark has its own light.”

“I don’t want to fade away, I want to flame away - I want my death to be an attraction, a spectacle, a mystery. A work of art.”

“I’m not afraid of dying. Pieces of me die all the time.”

““What do you want?” I asked. “To be with you in hell,” he said.”