Touch it and know what the next volcano looks like !!!
My job is to take care of you. I was appointed to do that by God. I will kill anyone who touches you. Do you understand?
¤69¤
Benim işim seninle ilgilenmek. Ben bunu yapmak üzere Tanrı tarafından görevlendirildim. Sana dokunan herkesi öldüreceğim. Anlıyor musunuz?
Bu alıntı da güzel, çok güzel.
“When I was five I asked my mother about love. She scooped me into her arms and spun me around, her laughter filling up the room. She said love was like a red, round balloon; there was a part of you that wanted to hold on to it, a part of you that longed to see it soar into the big, open sky.
At ten, I asked my mother again about love. A soft smile played on her lips when she said love was like a drowsy kitten that came to you, unbidden, crawled into your lap, and made you the center of its world.
The day I turned twenty, I dared to ask my mother one last time about love. She tucked a lock of my hair behind my ear and held my young, hopeful face between her gentle hands. Her eyes were raw with longing when she answered, love is a dormant volcano, lying in wait, biding its time.”
Başlangıçta doğa vardı...
Human life began in flight and fear. Religion rose from rituals of propitiation, spells to lull the punishing elements. To this day, communities are few in regions scorched by heat or shackled by ice. Civilized man conceals from himself the extent of his subordination to nature. The grandeur of culture, the consolation of religion absorb his attention and win his faith. But let nature shrug, and all is in ruin. Fire, flood, lightning, tornado, hurricane, volcano, earthquake—anywhere at any time. Disaster falls upon the good and bad. Civilized life requires a state of illusion. The idea of the ultimate benevolence of nature and God is the most potent of man’s survival mechanisms. Without it, culture would revert to fear and despair.
Pantheon BooksKitabı okudu
On my volcano grows the grass, —
A meditative spot,
An area for a bird to choose
Would be the general thought..
The sea was roaring, as if that monster was hungry too. That was what was going through my head. We’re all hungry, I thought. And I imagined all of humanity opening its mouth wide and the void gushing out from its throat like a volcano of acidic lava.
Bazı danışanlar, duygularını ifade etmeyi ya hep ya hiç önermesi gibi görürler. Bu danışanlar duygu volkanı kuramını (volcano theory of emotion) izlerler.
Duyguları birikene ve patlayana kadar hiçbir şekilde ifade etmezler.
How do volcano eruptions begin? Pressure. And it’s brewing inside of me. The fiery magma is rising, thickening with hatred, growing denser with bloodlust.
Eventually, I’m going to fucking explode, and I promise I will burn this entire goddamn house down with me.
My husband faces me and slams his free fist into the wall over my head, the hideous sound echoing in the small alleyway. His body magnifies, almost like it’s doubling in size, while his features sharpen. Being in Adrian’s company has always been an experience, but actually being the subject of his anger is no different than slamming into a volcano at the point of eruption. He might not burn me, but the threat is there, waiting, biding its time to swallow me whole.
I felt overwhelming physical sensations that welled up inside my body like a volcano with no vent, no outlet for release. I couldn’t attach any words to my feelings and, put simply, I didn’t know what to do with them. I couldn’t speak about them as I had no words for them. This is called ‘alexithymia’. Breaking my skin and channelling the feelings into physical pain somehow diverted my attention into something solid and tangible and made them dissipate. There was a sense of relief and calm.
She wasn’t a black hole, she decided. She was a volcano. And like a volcano she couldn’t run away from herself. She’d have to stay there and tend to that wasteland.
She could plant a forest inside herself.
Sayfa 274Kitabı okudu
