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These Windmills: Mere Mortals

@thesewindmills / thesewindmills.tumblr.com

"I'll tell you about it because I am here and you are distant." - Richard Brautigan.
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“now / at this innocent hour / the one I used to be sits with me / along my peripheral vision”

— Alejandra Pizarnik, Diana’s Tree. Translated by Yvette Siegert (Brooklyn: Ugly Duckling Presse, 2018), 13.

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Before summer ends and autumn arrives, in the warm interim when the air weighs heavy and the colours dim, the late afternoons wear an almost tangible robe of imitation glory. They’re comparable to those tricks of the imagination, when it makes nostalgia out of nothing, and they go on indefinitely, like the wakes of ships that form never-ending snakes.

Fernando Pessoa, The Book of Disquiet. Edited and translated by Richard Zenith. (New York: Penguin Books, 2003), 163. (via thesewindmills)

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But I’m about to give this one more shot, And find it in myself, I’ll find it in myself. So we’re speeding towards that time of year, to the day that marks that you’re not here. And I think I’ll want to be alone, so please understand that I don’t answer the phone. I’ll just sit and stare at my deep blue walls, until I can see nothing at all. Only particles, some fast, some slow, all my eyes can see is all I know. Ohh… But I’m about to give this one more shot, And find it in myself, I’ll find it in myself.

Azure Ray - November

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But I can't help it now Looking for faces in the clouds I got some friends I barely see But we're all planning to meet We'll lay in bags as dead as leaves All together for eternity

But don't you weep (don't you weep for them) Don't you weep (don't you weep) There is no one as lucky Honey, don't you weep (don't you weep for them) Don't you weep (don't you weep) There is nothing as lucky, as easy, or free Or free, or free, or free There's nothing, there's nothing, there's nothing...

Better Oblivion Community Center - Easy/Lucky/Free (Bright Eyes Cover)

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Above all, do not lose your desire to walk. Everyday, I walk myself into a state of well-being & walk away from every illness. I have walked myself into my best thoughts, and I know of no thought so burdensome that one cannot walk away from it. But by sitting still, & the more one sits still, the closer one comes to feeling ill. Thus if one just keeps on walking, everything will be all right.

Søren Kierkegaard, “Letters and Documents,” as quoted in the introduction to “The Lily of the Field and the Bird of the Air” (via autobibliographies)

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In six years time, you’ll be little more than this: the bookmark you signed, suddenly found again, a sentence that could be a line (‘I’ve never been able to love never’) half way through a book and my life.

Manuel de Freitas, from “In a Book by Dylan Thomas,” trans. Ana Hudson, Blues for Mary Jane (2004)

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“As if I loved only your memory and confession of me but who would I be, me, if I did not begin and end by loving you in my private language deprived of you, that very one, the untranslatable one… ‘don’t forget that I will have loved you’…”

–Jacques Derrida, from Circumfession, ed. & trans. by Geoffrey Bennington (University of Chicago Press, 1993)

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