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توی متنفر کردن آدما از خودم تکم جدی.
یعنی انقدر به مرور زمان کار می‌کنم روش..




Ouroboros, emblematic serpent of ancient Egypt and Greece represented with its tail in its mouth, continually devouring itself and being reborn from itself. A gnostic and alchemical symbol, Ouroboros expresses the unity of all things, material and spiritual, which never disappear but perpetually change form in an eternal cycle of destruction and re-creation.


The cavity and the wound; the opening and the eye; the cycle and the anomaly.


Репост из: ꒰ 𝐓𝖾𝖺𝗉𝗈𝗍 : 🫖 ꒱
هنری جون. جندر بچه ی بالاشهر لندن.




—— Micah Nemerever, These Violent Delights: A Novel


“It was a beautiful game. Even between grandmasters, that’s not a given, there’s plenty of ugly chess even at the highest levels. But this game, this goddamn game—the whole time you could see the players trying to take each other apart and push each other as far as they could go. And it’s gorgeous—when chess is played at its best, by two genuinely great players, it’s a work of art made from pure reason. It was… Watching them build that game together—and after I’d spent the whole tournament proving my own absolute mediocrity—but anyway, how beautiful it was, and how far it was from anything I’d ever be able to do, it broke my heart a little, is all.” He pulled a face. “God, sorry about that, that sounds so mawkish.”
“No, it doesn’t.” The protest sounded more emphatic than he’d planned.
“Beautiful things are supposed to hurt. It’s what I was saying earlier—even if you don’t know how you’re going to create something that matters, you can still want to do it so badly you can barely think about anything else—”




0:57


But I feel I can't touch anything without burning up in flames.






—— Benjamin Alire Sáenz, Aristotle and Dante Dive into the Waters of the World (book #2: sequel)


I don’t know how long we lay there, staring at each other, not wanting to speak because anything that we said would be wrong—wrong because any word we used would spoil the silence and the beauty of it. Yes, it was true that words could lead to understanding. But they could lead to misunderstandings, too. Words were imperfect.
This silence between me and Dante, this silence was perfect. But the silence had to be broken sometime.


Репост из: 𝖠𝗋𝗂 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖣𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾
Last year, Mr. Blocker said we could find ourselves in our own writing. All I could think was this: Sounds like a good place to get lost.




Snap. Adjust.





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