Unknown // Carole Anne Trisler

There was only void, and how are you supposed to give form to something that doesn’t exist?

― Haruki Murakami

“There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves; it is not my nature. My attachments are always excessively strong.”

— Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey

Grief

I walk ahead silently;

I can hear my shoes;

Clicking as they reach the ground.

Click clack,

Click clack.

I suppose I should be crying

I swear to you I'm trying

But my eyes are fully dry.

There's too much inside of me

But not enough to come out.

“In certain areas of my life, I actively seek out solitude. Especially for someone in my line of work, solitude is, more or less, an inevitable circumstance. Sometimes, however, this sense of isolation, like acid spilling out of a bottle, can unconsciously eat away at a person’s heart and dissolve it. You could see it, too, as a kind of double-edged sword. It protects me, but at the same time steadily cuts away at me from the inside.”

— Haruki Murakami, What I Talk About When I Talk About Running

He chose the latter. . . . . .

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"Such aching mystery hides, in your stardust-glimmer eyes."

~John Mark Green // Taste the Wild Wonder

Shirley Jackson ― We Have Always Lived in the Castle

— Juansen Dizon

“She reminded me of the sea; the way she came dancing towards you, wild and beautiful, and just when she was almost close enough to touch she’d rush away again.”

— Unknown