Een nieuwe reis

Ik verwijs jullie graag door naar Aimée du Vent

They grow weed like flowers.

I remember one morning, getting up at dawn. There was such a sense of possibility!
And I remember thinking to myself: "So this is the beginning  of happiness.
This is were it starts. And, of course, there'll always be more." 
Never occurred to me, it wasn't the beginning. It was happiness.
It was that moment. 
Uit: "The Hours"

Aimée du Vent

Waarom heb je mij gekozen als weerloos slacht-offer van je gedachtengang?

Le Poète Maudit.

Nachten,
vullen zich met troostseks.
Zeg jij maar niets,
ik ben hier om de stilte
te breken - gebroken.
Dierlijke kreunen. God.
Mijn zijn is natte as.

My reflections, shadows and dreams.

"Trots," dacht Morgaine, "is een koude bedgenoot."

Perhaps not to save you, but to keep from looking in...

Uit: "Nevelen van Avalon", Marion Zimmer Bradley en "Miserere", The Cat Empire

Tell me a story, Silver.

This is not a love story, but love is in it. That is, love is just outside it, looking for a way to break in.

We lived for the night. The torch in your window was my signal. When it was lit, I stayed away. When you extinguised it, I came to you - secret doors, dark corridors, forbidden stairs, brushing aside fear and propriety like cobwebs. I was inside you. You contained me. Together in bed, we could sleep, we could dream, and if we heard your servant's mournful cry, we called it a bird or a dog. I never wanted to wake. I had no use for the day. The light was a lie. Only here, the sun killed, and time's hands bound, were we free. Imprisoned in each other, we were free.

uit: "Lighthousekeeping", Jeanette Winterson.

In de schaduwen van Morgen

Ze zei: "De mist versluiert de maan, maar we hebben de stad en elkaar."

We're just two lost souls.