dilara

“In the realm of sense and reason it seemed logical for something to make sense for no reason (natural order) or not make sense for some reason (the deliberate design of deception) but it seemed perverse to have things make no sense for no reason. What if you colonize your own mind and when you get inside, the furniture is attached to the ceiling? What if you step inside and when you touch the furniture, you realize it’s all just cardboard cutouts and it all collapses beneath the pressure of your finger? What if you get inside and there’s no furniture? What if you get inside and it’s just you in there, sitting in a chair, rolling figs and eggs around in the basket on your lap and humming a little tune? What if you get inside and there’s nothing there, and then the door hatch closes and locks? What is worse: being locked outside of your own mind, or being locked inside of it?”
― Carmen Maria Machado, Her Body and Other Parties: Stories

“It was embedded in my memory and implanted somewhere deep in my heart. It was like an old football injury that ached on a rainy days. But I guess that’s not that unusual. I must have a whole collection of small injuries, tucked away somewhere in the recess of my memory. I suppose those are what people call regrets”
― Genki Kawamura

“Women's imaginary is inexhaustible, like music, painting, writing: their stream of phantasms is incredible.”
― Hélène Cixous, The Laugh of the Medusa

“But we are still mythical. We are still permanently trapped somewhere between the heroic and the pitiful. We are still godly; that’s what makes us so monstrous. But it feels like we’ve forgotten we’re much more than the sum of all the things that belong to us.”
― Kate Tempest, Brand New Ancients: A Poem