"What we fight with is so small, and when we win, it makes us small. What we want is to be defeated, decisively, by successively greater things." The Man Who Watches, R.M. Rilke.
The alone, upward slopping, curve
You’re eight hours Of self In a kitchen,
Eight hours of sleep In a bed,
Eight hours of errands With your partner.
« You » are a residue Left when Everybody else Has gone.
« You » is an upward Slopping curve With an abrupt end.
Je ne m’en sors pas si mal…
Envoyé de mon iPad