rocío
https://www.goodreads.com/rociocampos
progress:
(page 15 of 88)
"en febrero me voy a brasil así que este texto quedará postergado hasta entonces, todo por las vibes" — Jan 14, 2026 04:39AM
"en febrero me voy a brasil así que este texto quedará postergado hasta entonces, todo por las vibes" — Jan 14, 2026 04:39AM
progress:
(page 4 of 134)
"ya llevo leidos varios poemarios dentro de esta enorme colección que me compré y siempre que arranco uno mi cerebro grita qué re mil poronga es una millaaaaaa aguante la literatura argentina" — Jan 14, 2026 04:39AM
"ya llevo leidos varios poemarios dentro de esta enorme colección que me compré y siempre que arranco uno mi cerebro grita qué re mil poronga es una millaaaaaa aguante la literatura argentina" — Jan 14, 2026 04:39AM
“In the darkness, two shadows, reaching through the hopeless, heavy dusk. Their hands meet, and light spills in a flood like a hundred golden urns pouring out of the sun.”
― The Song of Achilles
― The Song of Achilles
“Between the end of that strange summer and the approach of winter, my life went on without change. Each day would dawn without incident and end as it had begun. It rained a lot in September. October had several warm, sweaty days. Aside from the weather, there was hardly anything to distinguish one day from the next. I worked at concentrating my attention on the real and useful. I would go to the pool almost every day for a long swim, take walks, make myself three meals.
But even so, every now and then I would feel a violent stab of loneliness. The very water I drank, the very air I breathed, would feel like long, sharp needles. The pages of a book in my hands would take on the threatening metallic gleam of razor blades. I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o'clock in the morning.”
― The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
But even so, every now and then I would feel a violent stab of loneliness. The very water I drank, the very air I breathed, would feel like long, sharp needles. The pages of a book in my hands would take on the threatening metallic gleam of razor blades. I could hear the roots of loneliness creeping through me when the world was hushed at four o'clock in the morning.”
― The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”
― The Song of Achilles
― The Song of Achilles
“Thanks to the long days of rain, the blades of grass glowed with a deep-green luster, and they gave off the smell of wildness unique to things that sink their roots into the earth.”
― The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
― The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
“Kumiko and I felt something for each other from the beginning. It was not one of those strong, impulsive feelings that can hit two people like an electric shock when they first meet, but something quieter and gentler, like two tiny lights traveling in tandem through a vast darkness and drawing imperceptibly closer to each other as they go. As our meetings grew more frequent, I felt not so much that I had met someone new as that I had chanced upon a dear old friend.”
― The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
― The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle
rocío ’s 2025 Year in Books
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