munisa’s musings: sourced

“No woman could have been Nietzsche or Rimbaud without ending up in a whorehouse or lobotomized.”
― Andrea Dworkin, Right-Wing Women

“Sleep felt productive. Something was getting sorted out. I knew in my heart—this was, perhaps, the only thing my heart knew back then—that when I'd slept enough, I'd be okay. I'd be renewed, reborn. I would be a whole new person, every one of my cells regenerated enough times that the old cells were just distant, foggy memories. My past life would be but a dream, and I could start over without regrets, bolstered by the bliss and serenity that I would have accumulated in my year of rest and relaxation.”
― Ottessa Moshfegh, My Year of Rest and Relaxation

“Reality doesn't impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another. No more walls.”
― Anaïs Nin, Incest: From "A Journal of Love": The Unexpurgated Diary of Anaïs Nin, 1932-1934

“I had a dream you died, it was so horrible, it was
worse than anything, I don't want you to go, please
don't leave me, I can't bear being alive without you,
I just want our souls to fly around forever and have
adventures together.
She cries raw as a child, sliming Isidol's toes with
hot saltwater and mucus.
Isidol starts crying too. She sinks to the floor and
holds Vellus so tight and their hair tangles together in
the smear of their faces.
For days after, when Isidol is sleeping, Vellus will
listen to see if she's still breathing. When Isidol goes
outside, she will go with her, no matter how she feels,
and hold her arm tightly.
It was so hard, she sobs. I was alone for so long.”
― Porpentine Charity Heartscape, PSYCHO NYMPH EXILE