Patti Smith

M Train

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    mgacufapjwrwpryvgqhas quoted10 months ago
    High winds, cold rain, or the threat of rain; a looming continuum of calamitous skies that subtly permeate my entire being. Without noticing, I slip into a light yet lingering malaise. Not a depression, more like a fascination for melancholia, which I turn in my hand as if it were a small planet, streaked in shadow, impossibly blue.
    Katya Kovalyovahas quoted2 years ago
    It’s not so easy writing about nothing.
    Marieke van Damhas quoted3 years ago
    There were books lining the walls and halls, books that I knew and books I wished to know.
    Marieke van Damhas quoted3 years ago
    All I needed for the mind was to be led to new stations.
    Marieke van Damhas quoted3 years ago
    Feeling a surge of investigative energy
    Tetiana Donskahas quoted3 years ago
    Though often amused by my quixotic notions, Fred did not make light of this ­self-­imposed task.
    Tetiana Donskahas quoted3 years ago
    Saint-­Laurent-­du-­Maroni
    Vlada Lodeskhas quoted3 years ago
    told me where I was standing and which way was west but not where I was going and nothing of my worth.
    Vlada Lodeskhas quoted3 years ago
    My breath materialized before me and I buttoned my coat.
    Marieke van Damhas quoted4 years ago
    I scoured the niches of former joys, halting at a moment of secret exaltation. Though it would take some time, I knew just how to do it. First I would close my eyes and concentrate on the hands of a ten-year-old girl fingering a skate key on a cherished lace from the shoe of a twelve-year-old boy. Think happy thoughts. I would simply roller skate through the portal.
    Marieke van Damhas quoted4 years ago
    He also told me that seeing one’s own hands within a dream was exceedingly rare.
    Marieke van Damhas quoted4 years ago
    You have misplaced joy, he said without hesitation. Without joy, we are as dead.
    —How do I find it again?
    —Find those who have it and bathe in their perfection.
    Chernikova Mariahas quoted4 years ago
    I had a black coat. A poet gave it to me some years ago on my ­fifty-­seventh birthday. It had been ­his—an ­ill-­fitting, unlined Comme des Garçons overcoat that I secretly coveted. On the morning of my birthday he told me he had no gift for me.
    —I don’t need a gift, I said.
    —But I want to give you something, whatever you wish for.
    —Then I would like your black coat, I said.
    And he smiled and gave it to me without hesitation or regret. Every time I put it on I felt like myself. The moths liked it as well and it was riddled with small holes along the hem, but I ­didn’t mind. The pockets had come unstitched at the seam and I lost everything I absentmindedly slipped into their holy caves. Every morning I got up, put on my coat and watch cap, grabbed my pen and notebook, and headed across Sixth Avenue to my café. I loved my coat and the café and my morning routine. It was the clearest and simplest expression of my solitary identity. But in this current run of harsh weather, I favored another coat to keep me warm and protect me from the wind. My black coat, more suitable for spring and fall, fell from my consciousness, and in this relatively short span it disappeared.
    Khalimat Khalia Tekeevahas quoted4 years ago
    I wrote about a traveler who ­didn’t travel.
    Marieke van Damhas quoted4 years ago
    I slip into a light yet lingering malaise. Not a depression, more like a fascination for melancholia, which I turn in my hand as if it were a small planet, streaked in shadow, impossibly blue.
    Khalimat Khalia Tekeevahas quoted4 years ago
    rode sturdy Icelandic ponies. His was white and mine was black, like two knights on a chessboard.
    Khalimat Khalia Tekeevahas quoted4 years ago
    Not a depression, more like a fascination for melancholia, which I turn in my hand as if it were a small planet, streaked in shadow, impossibly blue.
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