We strive to not be versions or the dead. Always expecting lace but coming up cotton. The lack is hungry.
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We strive to not be versions or the dead. Always expecting lace but coming up cotton. The lack is hungry.
“Here’s the thing about an apple: it sticks in the throat. It’s a package deal: lust and understanding. Immortality and death. Sweet pulp with cyanide seeds. It’s a bang on the head that births up whole sciences. A golden delicious discord, the kind of gift chucked into a wedding feast that leads to endless war. It’s the fruit that keeps the gods alive. The first, worst crime, but a fortunate windfall. Blessed be the time that apple taken was.“
Richard Powers | The Overstory