You're just trying on different identities, like everyone in those Shakespeare plays. And the people we pretend at, they're already in us. That's why we pretend them in the first place.
So, this is how it's become? This is how I've become? A walking contradiction? I'm surrounded by people and feel alone. I claim to crave a bit of normalcy but now that I have some, it's like I don't know what to do with it, I don't know how to be a normal person anymore.
And our lips. There isn't enough skin, enough spit, enough time, for the lost years that our lips are trying to make up for as they find each other. We kiss. The electric current switches to high. The lights throughout all of Brooklyn must be surging.
It takes certain kind of naiveté, or perhaps just stupidity, to know things will end and still hope otherwise.
I want you to play me like a cello.
You don’t share me. You own me.
And the voice grows stronger and stronger, and it’s my voice this time and it’s asking a question: How does she know?
I don't know how to be a friend. I don't know how to be anything.
...no way through it but through it," I tell myself.
When you make such a large withdrawal of happiness, somewhere you'll have to make an equally large deposit. It all goes back to the universal law of equilibrium.
I miss my father. I miss my grandfather. I miss my home. And I miss my mother. But the thing is, for almost three years, I managed not to miss any of them. And then I spent that one day with that one girl. One day ... It was like she gave me her whole self, and somehow as a result, I gave her more of myself than I even realized there was to give. But then she was gone. And only after I'd been filled up by her, by that day, did I understand how empty I really was.
If you can't trust me with a choice, how can you trust me with a child?
I realize it’s not just Willem I’m looking for; it’s Lulu too.
No one is who they pretend to be
It feels like the city is telling secrets down here, privy only to those who think to listen.
Anything can happen in one day.
Okay, maybe this was the meant to be: the universe I knew, loved nothing more than balance.
I don’t want to be that person, who just takes things.
Nothing happens without intention, Willem. Nothing. This theory of yours - life is rules by accidents - isn't that just one huge excuse for passivity?
Standing here, in this quiet house where I can hear the birds chirping out back, I think I’m kind of getting the concept of closure. It’s no big dramatic before-after. It’s more like that melancholy feeling you get at the end of a really good vacation. Something special is ending, and you’re sad, but you can’t be that sad because, hey, it was good while it lasted, and there’ll be other vacations, other good times.
We'll tell our secrets to the dark"-Adam "Okay"-Mia "So let's hear another of your irrational fears"-Adam "I'm scared of losing you"-Mia "I said 'irrational' fears. Because that's not gonna happen"-Adam "It still scares me"- Mia
I’ve blamed her for all of this, for leaving, for ruining me. And maybe that was the seed of it, but from that one little seed grew this tumor of a flowering plant. And I’m the one who nurtures it. I water it. I care for it.I nibble from its poison berries. I let it wrap around my neck, choking the air right out of me. I’ve done that. All by myself. All to myself.
It was just one day and it's been just one year. But maybe one day is enough. Maybe one hour is enough. Maybe time has nothing at all to do with it". Willem
But it's a big ocean. It's an even bigger world. And maybe we've gotten as close as we're supposed to get.
Do you do that a lot? Move on?" "Maybe. But only because I travel a lot." She taps put a beat on the steering wheel, audible only to herseld. "Or maybe you travel a lot because it lets you move on." "Perhaps." ........ I look out the window. The jungle is everywhere. I look back at her. "Can you move on from something when you're not sure what it is you're moving on from?
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