head heavy. throat sore. sight blurred. voice cracked.
there's nothing good on tv.
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"everyone dated the demise of our neighborhood from the suicides of the lisbon girls. people saw their clairvoyance in the wiped-out elms and harsh sunlight. some thought the torture tearing the lisbon girls pointed to a simple refusal to accept the world as it was handed down to them: so full of flaws. but the only thing we are certain of after all these years is the insufficiency of explenation.
[...]
it didnt matter in the end how old they had been, or that they were girls. but only that we had loved them, and that they hadn't heard us calling; still do not hear us, calling them out of those rooms where they went to be alone for all time, alone in suicide, which is deeper than death, and where we will never find the pieces to put them back together."
"everyone dated the demise of our neighborhood from the suicides of the lisbon girls. people saw their clairvoyance in the wiped-out elms and harsh sunlight. some thought the torture tearing the lisbon girls pointed to a simple refusal to accept the world as it was handed down to them: so full of flaws. but the only thing we are certain of after all these years is the insufficiency of explenation.
[...]
it didnt matter in the end how old they had been, or that they were girls. but only that we had loved them, and that they hadn't heard us calling; still do not hear us, calling them out of those rooms where they went to be alone for all time, alone in suicide, which is deeper than death, and where we will never find the pieces to put them back together."
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