Quotessence
Home / Quotes / Quote by Atere J.R.

Quote by Atere J.R.

Work

A Secret Silent Fall

Browse quotes and source details for this work. more

Author

Atere J.R.

Browse famous quotes and profile details for Atere J.R.. more

You May Also Like

“I sometimes feel like a slap when I hear the word functional. How much does a counselor know about your own life? Do not feel too much, do this, do that, these are the tools to process emotions, these are the tools to do this, do that, what the fucking tragedy. Isn’t the whole purpose of existence is to feel and feel more and a bit more? There is no logical rationale on why one should wait for years for a person. Maybe I did not feel the need to find a reason. In a life where I try to find the reason before opening a 30 second video, wasn’t that something that’s enough. Love is not supposed to be rational. When I feel, I feel. I feel a lot. And to doubt the love I had makes me doubt everything I had. Was anything real then, if not this? I do not know what I am feeling, but whatever it is, it is heavy. I did not know I had the capacity to feel this much and I did. I read once there are more atoms of hydrogen in a spoon than there are spoons on the earth. At that time it seemed very vague and funny, trivial but funny. But now that you are gone this is making me feel the heaviness of one spoon because a mare spoon is holding too many incomparable things. I hold too much of you inside of me, I hold too many memories inside of me that I am somehow on the verge of blasting but yet somehow I am not full. The waves of your memories come again and again. These tears are a witness that I loved you and I loved you well.”

“I sometimes feel like a slap when I hear the word functional. How much does a counselor know about your own life? Do not feel too much, do this, do that, these are the tools to process emotions, these are the tools to do this, do that, what the fucking tragedy. Isn’t the whole purpose of existence is to feel and feel more and a bit more?”

“Death has many pieces. At the very end, our lives fractured, and the shards swam away to where they belonged. The still-living carry those parts around with them: kind words and gentle skin-touches and sweet, sweet tears. The best parts of us are elsewhere, spread out across the land in a fine mist of memory. Our voices are the last thrumming of an insect's wing on a web. All that lodges here is the shape of our ending.”