Thursday, September 16, 2004


The past is magnetic. It draws us in. We cannot help ourselves, and as with other things that we cannot help in ourselves, we make up elaborate explanations, reasonable, rational explanations, to chant away the powerful things that don't belong to us.

Love has got complicated, tied up with promises, bruised with plans, dogged with an ending that nobody wants-when all love is, is what it always is-that you look at me and you want me and I don't turn away.

If I want to say no, I will, but for the right reasons. If I want to say yes, I will, but for the right reasons. Leave the consequences, leave the finale, leave the grand statements. The simplicity of what each of us owe. The admission charge is never on the door, but feeling should not be taxed. I can't work out what this will cost or you are open and I want to enter.

[Jeanette Winterson]

powerbook, such lovely prose. jeanette winterson, lesbian and angsty, writes hauntingly and beautifully.


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