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One day, one page, one sketch of GREAT EXPECTATIONS, published daily at 8:40 AM.

Posts from the Chapter 45 Category

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391I am rusty, you are rusty, he is rusty. I attempt to plunge to nothingness. I dare you to find something more pathetic. How will you defend yourself? I love Tom, Jack, and Richard, but that doesn’t matter.

389Being constantly worried means to think of oneself constantly, incapable to visualize a neutral path forward. In this fragile state you want to be considered invisible and you want people to be completely ignorant of your proceedings. Except that, deep in your mind, you really don’t want that, you want the opposite of that.

 

388Glued to ourselves, we’re unable to leave the course imbedded in our own misery. Maybe that’s why we love things that are official, so we don’t have to think or take responsibilities. We especially love things that are extra official. It’s fun being evasive, isn’t it?

 

387If we’re able to name what gives us pain, we endure it better, we can fight it and move on. But embracing the painful by defining it means we are rejecting it, we don’t want to claim that as ours, we reject ourselves. But it is yours, no matter how much you deny it. Defining things, labeling, is a destructive vice.

 

386We all have different physical features that make us different, but we all have the same defect: we wait for things. We only live when we have nothing to expect. We’re, therefore, always indirect, always late. Always late. Always.

385When you can’t sleep you’re drowned into a pit of irrevocable sorrow, deprived of forgetfulness, begging for the darkness to leave, even if it means going through the day without a break. The sight of a bed can be terrifying.