Bissy Karadjuzovic

“Love is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides, you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion, it is not the desire to mate every second minute of the day, it is not lying awake at night imagining that he is kissing every cranny of your body. No, don't blush, I am telling you some truths. That is just being "in love", which any fool can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.”
― Shawn Slovo, Captain Corelli's Mandolin filmscript

“Perhaps you’re fascinated
by the contours of my cheeks
with skin like bed sheets that
hide all of the complexities of what’s underneath,
and present an image of simplicity
(that is easier to digest than
skipping heart beats for hairy legs).

I wonder if
these next six nights
of not having to feel
so alone will make you
wondrous in keeping me
as a bedside table:
to place your hard times on
before you get the forty winks
your eyes need
to glisten in the midday light of my
bedroom.

And it’s hard to
fall back into sleep
when I’ve fallen in love
with studying the one that lies next to me.
I wonder if you’ve found landscapes in my
elbows like I’ve found
ebbing tides in your forehead.

Perhaps your love for me is fleeting,
and you’ll have moments where you
consider tearing yourself even further apart,
but as soon as it’s possible
you close your eyes again,
fall out of the thought
and back into sleep.

But, perhaps you’ll keep me as a bedside table:
to place your brain things in my cupboards,
to place your step dad in my cupboards,
to place your sad eyes in my drawers,
to put your heart ache in my
mouth, your desire for love in bite marks on my
neck, and your misty breath in my
ears

whispering ‘you are so important to me’.
-Bedside Table”
― Lucas Regazzi

“Ogni responsabilità è della donna, ogni sofferenza, ogni insulto. Puttana, le dite se ha fatto l'amore con voi. La parola puttano non esiste nel dizionario: usarla è un errore di glottologia.”
― Oriana Fallaci, Letter to a Child Never Born

“Why do people have to be this lonely? What's the point of it all? Millions of people in this world, all of them yearning, looking to others to satisfy them, yet isolating themselves. Why? Was the earth put here just to nourish human loneliness?”
― Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart