[b]Elena Ferrante
I said to myself that maturity consisted in accepting the turn that existence had taken without getting too upset, following a path between daily practices and theoretical achievements, learning to see oneself, know oneself, in expectation of great changes.[/b]
Given that, any mature folks here?
Men, dazed by pleasure, absent-mindedly sow their seed. Overcome by their orgasm, they fertilize us. They show up inside us and withdraw, leaving, concealed in our flesh, their ghost, like a lost object.
Or close enough?
People died of carelessness, of corruption, of abuse, and yet, in every round of voting, gave their enthusiastic approval to the politicians who made their life unbearable.
Of course with the next election that will all change.
Reading and writing are closed-room activities, which literally take you away from the gaze of others. The greater risk is that they also remove others from your gaze.
I’ll take my chances, he thought.
If you don’t try, nothing ever changes.
Which for some is ever as it should be.
…starting at a certain point, the future is only a need to live in the past. To immediately redo the grammatical tenses.
Let’s exchange points.