Bengisu
@birdbox
Çoğunlukla korku, gerilim ve gotik tarzda İngilizce kitaplar okuyorum. Alıntılar ve zaman zaman incelemeler için takip edebilirsiniz.
Çevirmen
İstanbul
15 Ağustos
44 okur puanı
Mayıs 2017 tarihinde katıldı
I am the sterile offspring of a race about which I know nothing, not even whether it has become extinct.
We women, as some one says, love with our ears, just as you men love with your eyes, if you ever love at all.
And now, racked with sobs, I was forced to acknowledge too late, much too late, that I too had loved, that I was capable of suffering and that I was human after all.
If I could come over here every day and howl and drool and have Mom wrestle me into submission like I'm possessed by a Catholic devil, I could sleep like a baby at night. If I could feel her light fingers gripping the back of my neck and be assured that I'm still holdable, then I might be able to function in this world.
I love too intensely and I'm consumed by my own love (analysis, jealousy, doubt)—so much so that when I'm in love, I always end up slightly extinguished and saddened. When I love, I become harsh, serious, intolerant. A heavy shadow settles over my relationships.
