“In what fucking world does losing you protect me? If you go down, I’ll go insane trying to get you out of it. What don’t you get about that?”
“In your damn dreams. I’m way out of your league.”
“I can rope you back in if I choose to.”
Maybe there were people out there whose love could survive anything, but mine was fragile. It needed to be nurtured in order to thrive and grow.
Wait.
I take a step forward.
Wait.
I scream in my head.
“Wait,” I whisper, but he doesn’t hear me and keeps drifting away.
Out of reach.
Out of my life.
Other Seas
When you know that everything that leaves our sea by even an inch, and stays out of it, dies.What proof have you of other lives in other seas?
"I draw circles around me and sacred borders; ever fewer climb with me on ever higher mountains – I build a range of mountains out of ever more sacred mountains.
But wherever you may climb with me, my brothers, see to it that a parasite does not climb with you!
Parasite: that is a worm, a crawling writhing worm that wants to glut itself on your infected nicks and niches.
And its art consists in guessing where climbing souls are weary; in your grief and dismay, in your tender modesty it builds its disgusting nest.
Where the strong is weak, the noble one all too mild – in that place it builds its disgusting nest; the parasite lives where the great person has little nicks and niches.
What is the highest species of all being and what is the least? The parasite is the least of species, but whoever is of the highest species nourishes the most parasites.
After all, the soul that has the longest ladder and reaches down farthest – how could it not have the most parasites clinging to it?"
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