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Charlie D
https://www.goodreads.com/domogyo
“Always, I am standing outside of myself while I watch my other self complete these tasks. I report back with updates: We are eating chicken. We are sharpening our minds. We are expanding our skill sets. One day, someone will happen upon us and love us genuinely and truly for these motions.”
― The Book of X
― The Book of X
“I wonder now if I've ever felt it, desire I mean, as in properly felt it, a desire of my own, and nothing to do with what I thought men demanded, what I believed I should perform, beyond sensations unfurling inadvertently in response to a stimulus. Where is the origin of my longing, what is it I want? Have I ever known?”
― Trauma Plot: A Life
― Trauma Plot: A Life
“I am talking about those who, as I write this, are digging the harbor of Abidjan by hand. I am talking about millions of men torn from their gods, their land, their habits, their life-from life, from the dance, from wisdom.”
― Discourse on Colonialism
― Discourse on Colonialism
“I nodded, but it did not fully assuage me because I had a helpless notion that I might have been lovely to someone.”
― Stag Dance
― Stag Dance
“No one remembers Izzy like this. Her sister, Selena, does, but only when she makes herself think past the horror. Usually Izzy—the real Izzy—is invisible beneath the shadow of what happened to her. The tragedy is that she is dead, but the tragedy is also that she belongs to him. The bad man, who did the bad thing. There are millions of other moments Izzy has lived, but he has eaten them up one by one, until she exists in most memories as a summation of that awful second, distilled constantly in her fear, her pain, the brutal fact.
From wherever Izzy is now, she wishes she could say: Before all this, my shoulders burned scarlet. I peeled off the flakes, flicked them into the sink. There were things I felt, before the fear.
I ate an orange in the sun. Let me tell you how it tasted.”
― Notes on an Execution
From wherever Izzy is now, she wishes she could say: Before all this, my shoulders burned scarlet. I peeled off the flakes, flicked them into the sink. There were things I felt, before the fear.
I ate an orange in the sun. Let me tell you how it tasted.”
― Notes on an Execution
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