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| author | Runxi Yu <harriet@andrewyu.org> | 2023-08-29 00:00:00 +0000 |
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| committer | Runxi Yu <harriet@andrewyu.org> | 2023-08-29 00:00:00 +0000 |
| commit | c8644d6c2fe7fc8b4fe4fff021d66e4e25a708cd (patch) | |
| tree | 5d440a086b4c991f0992584963306488e74c2c0d | |
| parent | 7a5fc0b374e11f88aaea182f2b7b79992d85350a (diff) | |
| download | www-c8644d6c2fe7fc8b4fe4fff021d66e4e25a708cd.tar.gz | |
Maybe it’s being alive that makes them lie, and being almost not alive makes me sort of accidentally truthful… —Brick, Act 3, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, by Tennessee Williams
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diff --git a/microblog/index.html b/microblog/index.html index fd211a3..8156905 100644 --- a/microblog/index.html +++ b/microblog/index.html @@ -19,6 +19,12 @@ </p> <hr /> --> + <p id="30"> + Maybe it's being alive that makes them lie, and being almost not alive makes me sort of accidentally truthful...<br /> +—Brick, Act 3, Cat on a Hot Tin Roof, by Tennessee Williams + <a href="https://www.andrewyu.org/microblog/#30">&</a> + </p> + <hr /> <p id="29"> Looking back, reading opinions, journal entries and poems I wrote a while back, ranging from two years to a month ago. There’s something pinching and squeezing my heart. Candle smoke intoxicated my eyes, yet I still could not blow them out. Tears create craters on my dusty face. I need to have a rest, perhaps reflect on my experiences throughout the years. There will not be any sort of “new beginning”. History exists, reality is not romantic, and the apparent me of the present is responsible for the past. The most destructive kind of feeling is not loneliness, not even guilt for other people. It’s my guilt towards the apparently innocent version of myself of the past. <a href="https://www.andrewyu.org/microblog/#29">&</a> |