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Hong Kong, as she is played (4)
Fog on the harbour, heaviness in the air. Months of this now.
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there’s something gaspingly pretty about ocean-colored peacocks
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Hong Kong, as she is played (2)
One other white girl walks into the gym. Personal trainer asks me, “Is that your friend?”
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Hong Kong, as she is played (1)
Your friends living on the mainland all go on their month-long holiday while you work 45 hours a week for four measly days off at the Chinese New Year.
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we all just want an audience
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Newest in a long list that contains such favorites as paper, noodles, silk, fireworks, and the decimal system comes the donkra (or perhaps the zonkey). I’m so glad that China’s still inventing things.
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“so that each day penetrates each night
so that each word runs to the other side of truth so that each verse comes out of itself and gives off its own light so that each face leaning on a hand sweats into the skin of the palm So that this pen changes into pure silence I wanted to say into love” - Anna Kamienska, from “Transformation,” trans. Grazyna Drabik and David Curzon (Source: proustitute)
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“In one way or another, we’re all anchored to the book. A library is a metaphor for human beings and what’s best about human beings… A library is total generosity.”
- Roberto Bolaño (Source: kelsfjord)
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“Don’t forget this. There sat in the poplar two brothers, the barber and podiatrist, in love with the same woman. They drank there and recited each poem they knew. Not a soul noticed: notasoul.”
- Ilya Kaminsky, from Deaf Republic: 3 (Source: proustitute)
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