Justyna Nemc

“I don't want to be somebody's crush. If somebody likes me, I want them to like the real me, not what they think I am.”
― Stephen Chbosky, The Perks of Being a Wallflower

“The axiom of equality states that x always equals x: it assumes that if you have a conceptual thing named x, that it must always be equivalent to itself, that it has a uniqueness about it, that it is in possession of something so irreducible that we must assume it is absolutely, unchangeably equivalent to itself for all time, that its very elementalness can never be altered. But it is impossible to prove. Always, absolutes, nevers: these are the words, as much as numbers, that make up the world of mathematics. Not everyone liked the axiom of equality––Dr. Li had once called it coy and twee, a fan dance of an axiom––but he had always appreciated how elusive it was, how the beauty of the equation itself would always be frustrated by the attempts to prove it. It was the kind of axiom that could drive you mad, that could consume you, that could easily become an entire life.

But now he knows for certain how true the axiom is, because he himself––his very life––has proven it. The person I was will always be the person I am, he realizes. The context may have changed: he may be in this apartment, and he may have a job that he enjoys and that pays him well, and he may have parents and friends he loves. He may be respected; in court, he may even be feared. But fundamentally, he is the same person, a person who inspires disgust, a person meant to be hated.”
― Hanya Yanagihara, A Little Life

“Představovala jsem si svůj život, jak se přede mnou rozvětvuje jako ten fíkovník z povídky. Na konci každé větvičky mě lákala nějaká skvělá budoucnost jako velký purpurový fík. Jeden fík byl manžel a šťastný domov plný dětí, druhý fík byla slavná básnířka a třetí slavná profesorka, další fík byla É. Gé., skvělá vydavatelka, další byla Evropa a Afrika a jižní Amerika, jiný byl Konstantin a Sokrates a Attila a parta dalších milenců se zvláštními jmény a nezvyklými povoláními, a ještě další fík byla šampiónka ženského olympijského týmu a kromě těchhle fíků tam visela ještě spousta dalších, které jsem nedokázala rozeznat. Viděla jsem se, jak sedím v rozsoše toho fíkovníku a umírám hlady jenom proto, že nevím, který z těch fíků si vybrat. Chtěla jsem je úplně všechny, ale vybrat si jeden znamenalo přijít o všechny ostatní, a jak jsem tam seděla a nemohla se rozhodnout, fíky se začaly scvrkávat a černat a pak mi jeden po druhém spadaly na zem k nohám.”
― Sylvia Plath, THE BELL JAR

“Take a drink every time you hear you’re not enough.
Not the right fit.
Not the right look.
Not the right focus.
Not the right drive.
Not the right time.
Not the right job.
Not the right path.
Not the right future.
Not the right present.
Not the right you.
Not you.
(Not me?)
There’s just something missing.
From us.
What could I have done?
Nothing. It’s just…
(Who you are.)
I didn’t think we were serious.
(You’re just too…
…sweet.
…soft.
…sensitive.)
I just don’t see us ending up together.
I met someone.
I’m sorry
It’s not you.
Swallow it down.
We’re not on the same page.
We’re not in the same place.
It’s not you.
We can’t help who we fall in love with.
(And who we don’t.)
You’re such a good friend.
You’re going to make the right girl happy.
You deserve better.
Let’s stay friends.
I don’t want to lose you.
It’s not you.
I’m sorry.”
― V.E. Schwab, The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue