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Jes
https://www.goodreads.com/commedesgascon
“Think of that person you knew when you were a kid, who you always thought you could have loved completely and forever.Well, you could have. It’s the truth, and it’s the saddest and simplest thing. There isn’t just one person for each of us in the world. There aren’t many, but there are always a few people we could have made it with, that maybe we still want to make it with, that press themselves so close to our hearts they leave scars, and then slip through our fingers and disappear from our lives. And it doesn’t make a difference if you’re thirteen or ninety- eight because some things you feel are real, no matter when.”
― Flick
― Flick
“Women can go mad with insomnia.
The sleep-deprived roam houses that have lost their familiarity. With tea mugs in hand, we wander rooms, looking on shelves for something we will recognize: a book title, a photograph, the teak-carved bird -- a souvenir from what place? A memory almost rises when our eyes rest on a painting's grey sweep of cloud, or the curve of a wooden leg in a corner. Fingertips faintly recall the raised pattern on a chair cushion, but we wonder how these things have come to be here, in this stranger's home.
Lost women drift in places where time has collapsed. We look into our thoughts and hearts for what has been forgotten, for what has gone missing. What did we once care about? Whom did we love? We are emptied. We are remote. Like night lilies, we open in the dark, breathe in the shadowy world. Our soliloquies are heard by no one.”
― Lost: A Memoir
The sleep-deprived roam houses that have lost their familiarity. With tea mugs in hand, we wander rooms, looking on shelves for something we will recognize: a book title, a photograph, the teak-carved bird -- a souvenir from what place? A memory almost rises when our eyes rest on a painting's grey sweep of cloud, or the curve of a wooden leg in a corner. Fingertips faintly recall the raised pattern on a chair cushion, but we wonder how these things have come to be here, in this stranger's home.
Lost women drift in places where time has collapsed. We look into our thoughts and hearts for what has been forgotten, for what has gone missing. What did we once care about? Whom did we love? We are emptied. We are remote. Like night lilies, we open in the dark, breathe in the shadowy world. Our soliloquies are heard by no one.”
― Lost: A Memoir
“Writing
There is one thing you should know about writing. It will inevitably lead you to dark places as you cannot write authentically about something unless you have lived it. However, you should always bear in mind that you are only a tourist and must always remain one. You were blessed with the gift of words, in order to bring a voice to suffering. But do not be too indulgent despite how addictive sadness can be, how easy it is to get lost down the path of self-destruction. You must emerge from adversity, scathed but victorious to tell your story, and, in turn, light the way for others.”
― Sea of Strangers
There is one thing you should know about writing. It will inevitably lead you to dark places as you cannot write authentically about something unless you have lived it. However, you should always bear in mind that you are only a tourist and must always remain one. You were blessed with the gift of words, in order to bring a voice to suffering. But do not be too indulgent despite how addictive sadness can be, how easy it is to get lost down the path of self-destruction. You must emerge from adversity, scathed but victorious to tell your story, and, in turn, light the way for others.”
― Sea of Strangers
“Your bestfriend, at angryness, is your real and true mirror.”
―
―
“Me"
( Notice Me)
I was sent here on a journey that has no end.
I hear you joke of going nowhere fast.
Well, maybe life’s a joke and I’m the fool
That dreams of being first but ends up last.
Life’s a trial—a sentence I can’t escape.
Confusion and desperation tear me down and turn to hate.
There’s so much more to figure out,
But it’s growing way too late.
If I could answer half the questions in my mind,
If I could find the place where I belong,
If words were near as strong and deep as the wall of emotions I climb
Then sorrow wouldn’t be so wrong.
There’s no way to make you understand.
An entire symphony could not play the broken notes in one child’s soul.
That child screams and no one hears her,
Until the tears have dried and now she’s just too old.
I don’t want to hear the philosophies, the opinions,
The remarks, the horrible reasonings.
Words are to pad the mind and fight with the solitude of the heart.
Still, silence chills to the bone and tears the soul apart.
She never means to hurt or harm, only to belong.
To find the truth ‘mid mortal lies, to sing her only song.
But someday this race will end, and if she comes in last,
I pray the first will look deeper than the others, smile, and then pass.
"Copyright 1985”
―
( Notice Me)
I was sent here on a journey that has no end.
I hear you joke of going nowhere fast.
Well, maybe life’s a joke and I’m the fool
That dreams of being first but ends up last.
Life’s a trial—a sentence I can’t escape.
Confusion and desperation tear me down and turn to hate.
There’s so much more to figure out,
But it’s growing way too late.
If I could answer half the questions in my mind,
If I could find the place where I belong,
If words were near as strong and deep as the wall of emotions I climb
Then sorrow wouldn’t be so wrong.
There’s no way to make you understand.
An entire symphony could not play the broken notes in one child’s soul.
That child screams and no one hears her,
Until the tears have dried and now she’s just too old.
I don’t want to hear the philosophies, the opinions,
The remarks, the horrible reasonings.
Words are to pad the mind and fight with the solitude of the heart.
Still, silence chills to the bone and tears the soul apart.
She never means to hurt or harm, only to belong.
To find the truth ‘mid mortal lies, to sing her only song.
But someday this race will end, and if she comes in last,
I pray the first will look deeper than the others, smile, and then pass.
"Copyright 1985”
―
Jes’s 2025 Year in Books
Take a look at Jes’s Year in Books, including some fun facts about their reading.
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Art, Classics, Crime, Fantasy, Fiction, History, Horror, Humor and Comedy, Manga, Memoir, Mystery, Non-fiction, Philosophy, Poetry, Romance, Suspense, Spirituality, Thriller, Travel, and Young-adult
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