My Own Wonderland.

TRASH

Einige Zitate aus meinem Lieblingsbuch
(Englische Ausgabe).

"There is never a sudden revelation,
a complete and tidy explanation for why
it happened, or why it ends, or why or who
you are. You want one and I want one, but
there isn't one. It comes in bits and pieces,
and you stitch them together wherever they
fit, and when you are done you hold yourself
up, and still there are holes and you are a
rag doll, invented, imperfect. And yet you are
all that you have, so you must be enough.
There is no other way."

- Marya Hornbacher, Wasted

"I wanted to kill the me underneath. That fact
haunted my days and nights. When you realize
you hate yourself so much, when you realize
that you cannot stand who you are, and this
deep spite has been the motivation behind your
behavior for many years, your brain can’t quite
deal with it. It will try very hard to avoid that
realization; it will try, in a last-ditch effort to
keep your remaining parts alive, to remake the
rest of you. This is, I believe, different from
the suicidal wish of those who are in so much
pain that death feels like relief, different from
the suicide I would later attempt, trying to
escape that pain. This is a wish to murder
yourself; the connotation of kill is too mild.
This is a belief that you deserve slow
torture, violent death."

- Marya Hornbacher, Wasted

"There is, in fact, an incredible freedom
in having nothing left to lose."

- Marya Hornbacher, Wasted

"We turn skeletons into goddessess
and look to them as if they might
teach us how not to need."

- Marya Hornbacher, Wasted

"That’s the nice thing about dreams,
the way you wake up before you fall."

- Marya Hornbacher, Wasted

"This is the weird aftermath, when it is not
exactly over, and yet you have given it up.
You go back and forth in your head, often,
about giving it up. It’s hard to understand,
when you are sitting there in your chair, having
breakfast or whatever, that giving it up is
stronger than holding on, that “letting yourself
go” could mean you have succeeded rather
than failed. You eat your goddamn Cheerios
and bicker with the bitch in your head that keeps
telling you you’re fat and weak: Shut up, you
say, I’m busy, leave me alone. When she leaves
you alone, there’s a silence and a solitude that
will take some getting used to. You will miss her sometimes...There is, in the end, the letting go."

- Marya Hornbacher, Wasted

"My god! people say. You have so much
self-control! And later: My god. You're so,
so sick. When people say this, they turn their
heads, you've won your little game. You have
proven your thesis that no-body-loves-me-every-
body-hates-me, guess-I'll-just-eat-worms. You
get to sink back into your hospital bed, shrieking
with righteous indignation. See? you get to say.
I knew you'd give up on me. I knew you'd leave."

- Marya Hornbacher, Wasted

"I do not remember very many things from
the inside out. I do not remember what it felt
like to touch things, or how bathwater traveled
over my skin. I did not like to be touched, but
it was a strange dislike. I did not like to be
touched because I craved it too much. I wanted
to be held very tight so I would not break. Even
now, when people lean down to touch me, or hug
me, or put a hand on my shoulder, I hold my
breath. I turn my face. I want to cry."

- Marya Hornbacher, Wasted

"When you are mad, mad like this, you don't
know it. Reality is what you see. When what
you see shifts, departing from anyone else's
reality, it's still reality to you."

- Marya Hornbacher, Wasted

"And so i went through the looking glass,
stepped into the nether world, where up is
down and food is greed, where convex mirrors
cover the walls where death is honour and flesh
is weak. It is ever so easy to go.
Harder to find your way back."

- Marya Hornbacher, Wasted






End of Story.





Gratis bloggen bei
myblog.de