On life

I keep trying to solve the variables, but not even the constants decide what they want.

— e.lisitsa

The howl came at the same time he scratched his forehead, lying on the grass, and he realized there was no moon in the sky. New moon, that’s right. He tried to imagine where the wolf could be at that moment, and how he’d be feeling while screaming to the infinite with no guarantees that the moon would be back in a few days.
“Welcome to the club,” he whispered, recalling his own recent past.


Unfinished lives #39

— e.lisitsa

On ambitions

"I want it, I want it," said the girl pointing up.
Her mother knelt by her side, one eye closed over the child’s shoulder to see what she meant. She was pointing to the moon. The mother exhaled in a laugh so light even her daughter had trouble understanding.
"You want it? Just stand on your toes, then."
The kid thought for a while and responded:
"My teacher said the moon is too far away, what difference will it make?"
Without an answer, the girl gave up on her own argument and decided to try. Stood on her toes. From her point of view, the index finger moved a few inches upward, until it reached the edge of the white circle.
Thinking about it… Hey, she had touched the moon!
"See?" mom said proud, "You can have whatever you want in life, it’s all a question about finding the right perspective."

— e.lisitsa

On voices

"I will be the voice of my generation."
"Well, I just wanted to be at least part of the choir."

— e.lisitsa

On the sky

I got lost in the cloudless sky,
in the delicate lines of a winter afternoon.
The night comes soon
and I look at the stars,
my guide,
willing to be lost forever.

— e.lisitsa

And when they try to diminish you, think about it: those people aren’t feeling bigger than you, they’re just desperately trying to pull everything in the world to the minuscule size of themselves.

On sizes

— e.lisitsa

While she was straightening up on the couch with no filling, with a wrong curve in its back, a lump underneath making her hips bend to the left, the ribs on that side pressing what she thought to be her liver, while the foot was kind of numb because she couldn’t firm it on the floor, sunk on the couch as she was, she was staring at the ceiling and asking herself why she always seeks comfort in the most uncomfortable hearts.

Unfinished lives #17

— e.lisitsa

On life (again)

Between a cry for attention and a smile for a like.

You know, the perfect life.

On light and darkness

"Ouch! Don’t scare me like that!"
"Sorry, I just went to get some water."
"But why didn’t you turn on the light? This darkness is only good to attract the dead."
"And the light is only good to attract the living. It has been lately a much worse choice."

— e.lisitsa

Studies confirm: vices of language are the number one cause of death among writers.

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