Jeg har en vag følelse av at jeg har lest Amtmannens døtre men det må ha vært i forbindelse med skole? Altså tvang...
Denne helgen er jeg iferd med å avslutte Doris Lessing »Jane Somers dagbok» del 2. Likte den første best av disse men absolutt bra den siste også.
Var som vanlig på bibben og lånte en bok av en mexicansk kvinne, Fernanda Melchor sin debutbok »I orkanens skygge», den kom på norsk i fjor og var nominert til the international Booker Prize. Begynner på den når jeg er ferdig med Lessing.
Her er det nydelig vær men skarpt i luften om man ikke finner en plass i le...
Les med glede!
I tried to ditch them on the way down, but Fate was against me. Fate`s always fucken against me these days.
Fate. Like, notice how whenever something happens in your life, like you fall in love or something, a tune gets attached. Fate tunes. Watch out for that shit.
School never teaches you about this mangled human slime, it slays me. You spend all your time learning the capital of Surinam while these retards carve their initials in your back.
School has a stench when I get back, of sandwiches that wont be eaten, lunchboxes lovingly packed, jokingly, casually packed, that by tonight will be stale cold with tears. I
m bathed in the stench before i can turn back. I drop flat to the ground at the side of the gym and, through the shrubs, watch young life splatter through slick mucous air.
Like most excessively beautiful persons, he had studied his own reflection minutely and, in a way, knew himself from the outside best; he was always in some chamber of his mind perceiving himself from the exterior.
As a child he had known instinctively that it was always better to tell a partial truth with a willing aspect than to tell a perfect truth in a defensive way.