یادداشت های یک دیوانه.


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Digital daily shit.
https://www.goodreads.com/user/show/139950351
گودریدز.
چنل کتابهام.
https://t.me/naransbookshelf
ارتباط با من : @Itsnaranbot

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تا میتونید از ۲۷ بهمن بگید!


Репост из: برای ایران
📍- ٢٧ بهمن ماه | «ایستاده‌ایم تا پایان»
• همزمان با چهلم جاویدنامان محمد حسینی و محمدمهدی کرمی؛ در میادین و خیابان‌های اصلی شهر خود تجمع کرده و یادشان را گرامی خواهیم داشت.


“there have been periods in his 20s, when he would look at his friends and feel such a pure, deep contentment, that he would wish the world around them with simply cease, that none of them would have to move from that moment, when everything was in equilibrium and affection for them was perfect. But, of course, that was never to be: a beat later, and everything shifted, and moment quietly vanished.”

https://t.me/howelssittingcastle


وقتی به باتری هلث گوشیم نگاه می‌کنم افسردگی می‌گیرم.


“But sometimes it was night, when everything was silent around him, and it took him longer to figure out where he was, and why he was there, although it came back to him, it always did, and unlike some realizations, it’s never grew easier or fuzzier with each remembrance. And sometimes it was neither day Nor night but somewhere in between, and there will be something strange, and Dusty about the light that made him imagine from moment that there might after all be such a thing as heaven, and that he might after all have made it there.”

https://t.me/siiiilvermoon


“Maybe it would be nice to confess to someone that most of the time he could barely relate to what was being discussed that he couldn’t participate in everyone else’s shared language of childhood pratfalls and frustrations but then he would stop himself, for admitting ignorance of that language with me, and having to explain the one he did speak.”

https://t.me/lapetitemorte


“He had unconsciously learned to adopt a certain tone when he talk to his parents, what emotion, less, and blunt that was meant to Echo their own.”

https://t.me/serjeantbarnes


“At nights, he and his parents would have silent meals; she could almost feel, them pulling away, as a favor, and peeling themselves from their lives as parents of two children and readying themselves to drift toward a new identity elsewhere.”

https://t.me/flyinginthecloudss


there has been another silence. “ you’re too kind, Willem,” JB said, darkly. “ I’m never going to get anywhere like this.”

https://t.me/rthoud


“Somewhere, surrendering to what seemed to your faith has changed from being dignified to being a sign of your own cowardice. There were times when the pressure to achieve happiness felt almost oppressive, as if happiness were some thing that everyone should, and could attain, and that any sort of compromise, and it’s pursuit was somehow your fault”

https://t.me/hannibalskitchen


“ …“But they are your parents,” Malcolm said to him once a year or so. “you can’t just stop talking to them.” But you could, you did : he was proof of that. It was like any relationship, he felt— it took constant pruning, and dedication, and vigilance, and this, neither party wanted to make the effort, Why wouldn’t it wither?…”

https://t.me/oneofthemikelsons


“ and if we are being philosophical— which we today are— We can say that life itself is the axiom of the empty set. It begins in zero, and it ends in zero we know that both states exist, but we will not be conscious of either experience: they are states that are necessary parts of life, even as they cannot be experienced as life. We assume the concept of nothingness, but we cannot prove it. But it must exist. So I prefer the sink that Walter has not died, but has instead proven for himself the axiom of DMT said that he has proven the concept of zero. I know nothing else would have made him happier. An elegant mind once elegant and things, and Walter had the most elegant mind. So I wish him goodbye. I wish him the answers to the axiom he’s so loved.”

https://t.me/hannibalskitchen


They’re both quiet “I wish I could’ve been there,” Willem says.
“You were,” he assures him. “but Willem— I missed you.”
Very quietly, Willem says, “I missed you, too.”

https://t.me/BaroqueHouse


“Are you happy? He once asked Jude (they must’ve been drunk). I don’t think happiness is for me, Jude said, at last, as if Willem had been offering him a dish, he didn’t want to eat. But its for you Willem.”

https://t.me/hannibalskitchen


این پیام و فوروارد کنید چنل هاتون، تا براتون یه بخش از کتاب a little life رو بنویسم:)


پارتنری که برات چیز میز ببافه>>>>>>




درد من از بی عشقی‌ست.
درد من از آن است که آرزو می‌کنم، «بیشتر» باشم، دوتا قلب بجای یکی، سه تا چشم، به جای دوتا، از هرچیزی یکم بیشتر، اما کجا بگذارمشان؟
با سه تا چشمم چه ببینم که به دلم خوش بیاید؟ خودم را، که تحملش را ندارم؟
با قلب-هایم- چه چیزی را حس کنم؟ درد را؟
من اینهمه زیاد بودن را می‌خواهم چکار کنم؟
وقتی عشق ندارم.


I want to love a boy
The way i love the ocean
Wish I was not afraid
Of all i have thats broken
I know i must behave
To contain all my emotion
But I want to love a boy,
The way i love the ocean



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