k. rowan > Recent Status Updates

“That old woman in black who sat down next to me on my bench, on my rack of joy (a nymphet was groping under me for a lost marble), and asked if I had stomachache, the insolent hag. Ah, leave me alone in my pubescent park, in my mossy garden. Let them play around me forever. Never grow up.”

😨

“My little cup brims with tiddles.”
Oh my god?

I shall now analyze this sentence via analytical prose. The (now repeated) mention of “tiddle cup” serves in reference to the traditional parlour game, ‘tiddlywinks.’ We, humble members of the jury, are therefore made privy to Humberts’ malicious, malevolent desires throughout the course of Humberts’ sadistic, albeit breathtaking, wordplay.

“Humbert was perfectly capable of intercourse with Eve, but it was Lilith he longed for.”

“Now I wish to introduce the following idea. Between the age limits of nine and fourteen there occur maidens who, to certain bewitched travelers, twice or many times older than they, reveal their true nature which is not human, but nymphic (that is, demoniac); and these chosen creatures I propose to designate as “nymphets.”

What the fuck

A paper of mine entitled “The Proustian theme in a letter from Keats to Benjamin Bailey” was chuckled over by the six or seven scholars who read it.

Son 😭✌️

“But that mimosa grove—the haze of stars, the tingle, the flame, the honeydew, and the ache remained with me, and that little girl with her seaside limbs and ardent tongue haunted me ever since—until at last, twenty-four years later, I broke her spell by incarnating her in another.”

“It is as if a painter said: look, here I’m going to show you not the painting of a landscape, but the painting of different ways of painting a certain landscape, and I trust their harmonious fusion will disclose the landscape as I intend you to see it.”

I’ve developed a disease that forces me to apologize for everything. I can’t stop. It’s what I do. I’m always apologizing. For who I am and what I never meant to be and for this body I was born into, this DNA I never asked for, this person I can’t unbecome. 17 years I’ve spent trying to be different. Every single day. Trying to be someone else for someone else.
- Page 85

“I submerge my head for a long while, holding my breath as I exhale through my nose. I feel the small bubbles rise to the surface. The warm water makes me feel weightless. It carries my burdens for me, understanding that I need a moment to relieve my shoulders of this weight. To close my eyes and relax.”
- Page 82/133

this is getting a little too relatable 😭

“He is not tortured by what he does or how he lives. In fact, he enjoys it. He loves the rush of power; he thinks of himself as an invincible entity.
And in some ways, he’s not wrong. The most dangerous man in the world is the one who feels no remorse; who never apologizes and therefore seeks no forgiveness. Because in the end it is our emotions that make us weak, not our actions.”
- Page 75/133

“The shaking is coming from deep within my core, from a profound realization of what I’m holding in my hands. This journal is not from her time spent here… This journal is a documentation of her days spent in the asylum. And suddenly this small, battered notebook means more to me than anything I’ve ever owned.”
- Page 46/133

okay twin 😭

“I told James without asking you. I made . . . an assumption.” He stops. “I shouldn’t have. You should have a choice. You should always have a choice. And it’s your choice if you want to be with me.”

“Hey, so, I’m just going to pretend like I can’t hear you guys anymore, okay?” Kenji makes a random motion with his hand. “Go ahead and have your moment.”

Realization is a pendulum the size of the moon. It won’t stop slamming into me.

“A gentle, but firm knock vibrates my front door. It’s almost becoming an instinct for my heart to skip a few beats whenever I hear any noise in the manor.”