mashatupitsyn:


Roland Barthes, A Lover’s Discourse



Lydia Davis, Varieties of Disturbance

I love this poem. I’ve often thought about how my head and my heart have trouble communicating, how when my heart hurts, my head tries to comfort it, to tell it to stop hurting. My head says to my heart that the way things are can’t be changed so there’s no point in persisting in aching. But my head and my heart speak different languages and can’t understand each other very well. My heart needs to feel like it’s communicating with another heart.

image