#fragments of selfhood

I am alone. Or, more like: alone with that other “me”.

__

What is it that separates my self from my self? What is it that destroys me, negates me?

__

I am in front of the mirror. And for the first time in my life —yes, exactly—for the first time in my life, I see

__

I feel self-repressed again. The old fall disease. Where is my will-power? The Idea of a life gets in the way of my life.

__

There’s no joining past to present — I saw that then. My old, whole self was gone for good.

__

A sunshiny day came, full of the scent of a mezereon tree, when bees were tumbling into the yellow crocuses, and she forgot,

__

And since I couldn’t let [the young man I was] breathe, since I smothered him inside of me, since I covered him a little bit

__

If someone were to edit my notebook and ask me to endorse certain pages, I’d say no. Nevertheless, I would endorse the

__

home: the word gives me a shove, and I stumble.

__

One day, in a careless moment, your own heart will be revealed to itself, as though you had turned a corner and collided with

__

I hardly exist and if I do exist it’s with delicate care.

__

At the National Museum of the American Indian, 68 percent of the collection is from the I am doing my best to not

__

He saw his life refracted through the prism of other people’s words. It was another way of not being noticed. Of

__

Dear sirs, now of all times, when I had so much to say, I don’t know how to express myself. I’m a solemn and serious woman,

__