denis-shit

December 8, 2024

There is a song in French that reminds me of this situation. It goes ‘Je suis le mendiant de l’amour.’ It means: ‘I am the beggar for love.’ This is me, but I am also a piece of shit.

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Thought:

“Did it matter that she must inevitably cease completely? All this must go on without her; did she resent it; or did it not become consoling to believe that death ended absolutely?”

Virginia Woolf | Mrs. Dalloway

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