Wednesday, November 29, 2017

211017

I’m thinking, I love my mom, if anything else fails, there’s still my mom. Reading Ferrante’s book, i feel some idea of consistency sown into me - the constant thing for me is the rollercoaster. One moment I feel clear and calm, another I burst into the most extreme human emotion in private. I feel like, maybe this is how I live my life, I don’t know. I think I’m lacking the objectivity, I don’t know myself, I feel lost. Maybe I need to be guided, maybe I’m better left alone because I’ll exhaust those who try to guide me. In my head there are voices like Elena’s, and I know why people love her so much, in the expansive account of her interior dialogue there must be your own voices too, you don’t know which is whose. Almost mimicking how Lila has impregnated her with her voices too. Voices that have this capability, I think are among the strongest. There are very few quotable passages, the writing is good at best, the books’ strength I think is the voices they present and they conjure on your own, in your own mind.

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