{David Foster Wallace, Infinite Jest/ Friedrich Nietzsche, from a letter to Malwida von Meysenbug wr. c. 1876/ Lemony Snicket, The Beatrice Letters/ IDK You Yet, Song by Alexander 23/ Robert Desnos/ Albert Camus, from a letter to María Casares written c. June 1944/ Emily Brontë, from The Collected Novels; "Wuthering Heights,"/ Caroline George, Dearest Josephine/ Srinivas Mishra/ Unknown/ Maria Casarès to Albert Camus, Correspondance, Christmas, 1948/ Unknown}
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Millions long for immortality who do not know what to do with themselves on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
Susan Ertz (1887-1985) Anglo-American writer known for her "sentimental tales of genteel life in the country"
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What unaccountable longings and hidden fears are swimming on fire in you?
~Anne Carson
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It gets sick sometimes to believe we are worthy of smiles. But you gotta "shhh" your mind, for it's such a trickster. Let it hurt a little, let yourself caress the depth of that wound, let yourself measure it with immense compassion, let yourself be happy!
Her Schrödinger's Cat, Tenth Insight
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these days I am reminded more
there was a time
when I longed to build something beautiful with her
in life, in the deserts of
but instead what I built grew darker and realer
in her sun light, and ours, while waiting
no less beautiful but the bitterness was left and was all
much of it because she was hooked into an abusive flunky, younger
her passion that she needed, she needed
the rushes and virtual hang overs with him, for four years and more addictive
her compassions for him and his, he owned
so instead I grew darker and realer
and she put him down, not finally but
her wasted years, led to depression
not quite shared either
and she hardly said hello or good morning unless
engaged first, and was this way throughout much of it all
unavailable, and avoidant, and some how wanting
but what she had with him, and others
and an occasional dose of time with me hidden to immerse in
helped her be better, and me bitter
like a squeeze of lemon
down the legs, cut and to brighten &
she said she cried when I ended it
but I was already passed that
and I think it was for that
that she wouldn't let go or leave alone
or cease communicating through justifications
and excuses
and the same old nice idea wishful thinkings
and I know, that there is more left to say
when it isn't what she wants to hear, meaningfully
to coexist and linger
without her validations
an evening painting using Corel Painter, additional photographs layered in, with film emulation superia 200 and retinex set to 11, unsure if it matters
graphic and words ©spacetree 2023
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Blur of moment
It was rainingSilver drops caressing my face
Silver drops caressing my face
And suddenly I saw you pass by
Your eyes held mine for a moment
That caught my breath
Replaying those memories
Where my eyes couldn’t have enough of you
Staring at you ignited my heartbeats
Like you are the only thing that mattered
And I couldn’t express in any kind of language how love felt…
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