nabokov-no-stopping

January 31, 2025

There was no stopping the world now. In grand style houses pass by, the curtains flap in the open windows of his home, its floors crackle a little, the walls creak, his mother and sister are drinking their morning coffee in the swift draft, the furniture shudders from the quickening jolts, and ever more rapidly, more mysteriously, travel the houses, the cathedral, the square, the sidestreets.

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Thought:

“O God, I am not like you

In your vacuous black,

Stars stuck all over, bright stupid confetti.

Eternity bores me,

I never wanted it.

“

Sylvia Plath

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