hungry and tired.

and all the reasons put force, are but sugar tissue at this very point, heretofore my trojan horse.

& we hemmed, hawwed, loved, lost (something of ourselves along the way).
so wot can be left if the guise is gone? it cld be a lilly or a dafa-dafa-dilly. but i think none of the above.

dont interrupt me when im connecting with you on spider string, lover.


Adolescence, then, is a curious station on the route from ignorant communion to our ultimate isolation, the place where words and silences reveal themselves to be meaningful and yet where, too young to acknowledge that we cannot gauge their meaning, we imagine it for ourselves and behave as if we understood. Only with the passage of years, wearied, do we resort to asking. With the inadequacy of asking and the inadequacy of replies comes the realization that what we thought we understood bears no relation to what existsm the way, seeing the film of a book we have read, we are aghast to find the hereine a strapping blonde when we pictured her all these years a small brunette; and her house, which we envisaged so clearly and quaintly on the edge of a purple moor, a vast unfamiliar pile of rubble with all its rooms out of order. - The Last Life, Claire Messud.