It’s the end of a chapter and the start of a new one. Just like Gregor Samsa, I woke up one day and wasn’t feeling the same. I found out that I had metamorphosed into one huge insect. An in-between posts to introduce the tale, the start of the next chapter, where there are no […]
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The In-Betweener

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It’s the end of a chapter and the start of a new one. Just like Gregor Samsa, I woke up one day and wasn’t feeling the same. I found out that I had metamorphosed into one huge insect. An in-between posts to introduce the tale, the start of the next chapter, where there are no more unicorns nor Vespas, no cherry flowers or light summer breezes. In the next chapter, winter is coming.

hope you meet someone who wants to experience you and not just see you by their eyes. Someone who doesn’t only want to have sex with you but moves their fingers over your body like trying to find a city on a world map and mark their favorite destinations. Someone who wants to experience you like a masterpiece: Whenever we observe a masterpiece. we get the urge to touch it
— and most of the time we do, involuntarily, because it’s so perfect that we not only want to see it with our eyes and forget its details later on. Because I read somewhere that every time you recall a memory, your brain edits it bit by bit. So we long to experience it, so that each part which contributes to its perfection stays with us.

After all, how scary would it be to forget how perfect you felt?

So I hope someone experiences you like a summer breeze stroking your hair, like the warmth of a bonfire on a chilly winter night, like the taste of that traditional homemade dish made by a mother for her children that forever lingers in their mouth. I hope you find someone who justifies in treating you like the perfect art you are.”
—James Boyle

 

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