m1ssnovember

[m1ssnovember]

But cheering me on during this hunt does not cheer me up; on the contrary, it paralyzes me, everything suddenly becomes a lie and the pursued become the hunters. I am on such a dangerous road, Milena. You are standing fast by a tree, young, beautiful, your eyes are subduing the sorrows of the world with their brightness. We're playing skatule skatule hejbejte se, I'm creeping in the shade from one tree to the next, I'm halfway there, you call to me, pointing out the dangers, wanting to encourage me, you're scared by my faltering step, you remind me (me!) how serious the game is—I can't make it, I fall down, already prostrate. I can't listen both to the terrible inner voices and to you simultaneously, but I can listen to what the voices are saying and confide this in you, trusting you like no other person in the world.

Franz Kafka, June 3 1920. Letters to Milena:

[m1ssnovember]

“ I brushed my teeth and the toothpaste in my mouth tastes like vomit.

I think I’ve been vomiting all my life.”

-MissNovember

[m1ssnovember]

I met the humans of my life today

"This summer, somewhere in June, July you’ll be travelling around the country, around the lakes. Will you be able to name then? Will you be able to tell the number of tears in them. Do you know all mine, fill all the waters you’ll be passing. Do you then know that the names of the lakes on the maps aren’t really their names. The dates where I’ve had to bid you farewell a longer time are with waves, what they respond to. The eye contact that I never held, despite you being the prettiest to see, look for it in the water’s reflection."

[m1ssnovember]

How I spend my mornings for writing in your solitude tends to make you forget the morals and illusionary principles of human nature

[m1ssnovember]

[m1ssnovember]

“I try not to wonder, try not to beguile myself, crucify me on an upside down hill if I ever beguile you. Were I a merit? did I have meaning? Anorexia, Anxiety, Anti depressants. Forgive me for no A.”

🥀

🥀

(Not sure if this is poem, Journal entry or an extract from a novel I’ve written) but it’s mine and it’s raw.

[m1ssnovember]

Melancholic poet academia

Drinking excessive amounts of black coffee to numb the hunger for anything but hearts solitary. Staining your hands with ink, overwhelmed either all the thoughts you have to turn into poems, afternoons in second hand book stores, multiple medias for writing, resides in the fictional world, reciting tragedies for pets or antiquities in your room. Pomegranates will be the closest you’ll ever come to a heart.

[m1ssnovember]

If you adore pomegranates, withered roses, literature, poetry, writing, books, typewriter poetry, Greek mythology, Greek tragedies.

[m1ssnovember]

This is where I write

[m1ssnovember]

[m1ssnovember]

My body doesn’t love me anymore.

I bleed and for that I am to be grateful

It’s coagulated and it doesn’t hurt anymore.

[m1ssnovember]

You don’t get rid of depression.

Depression gets rid of you

- MissNovember

[m1ssnovember]

-my own writing

[m1ssnovember]

[m1ssnovember]

[m1ssnovember]

I am fire forced to go across ice and I am ice forced to burn in your flames

[m1ssnovember]

”remember this fundamental truth”