There comes a day when the rivering heat, the anticipation of love, & the expectation to hold tight & thrive, exceeds the companionship of the sun, of the watery ambition & excellence of blood; of the careful societies that justify the body & mind. The mild attraction of others engaged with the weather (others who you have nourished) are no longer twinning at your side. The small swarms of coition too common & too numerous to ever describe, are no more of desire. You are alone in the harshest sense: both vulnerable & unwanted. An entire life emptying into one simple declarative: Animal, you are not needed. What is happening now has happened all around, every moment of your way, only you had managed, somehow, to see past the dead.
There are moments when one's past came back to one, as it will sometimes when you have not a minute to spare to yourself; but it came in the shape of an unrestful & noisy dream, remembered with wonder amongst the overwhelming realities of this strange world of plants, and water, and silence. Joseph Conrad The Heart of Darkness
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