The Son of Ghosts
Canadian - Living in Leuven (Doing my Masters in Philosophy 2013-2014) Specialized in Philosophy and Minor in Creative writing in Undergrad - Amateur Photographer - Love music, film, poetry, journalism and comedy.
Sunday, March 23, 2014
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
"In the hour when day struggles with night, when even in midsummer a cold shudder goes through nature, we met down there in the clammy morning fog and the dew-damp grass, and the birds flew up in fright at his cry. In the hour when day has conquered, when all that lives rejoices in life, in the hour when the beloved young girl, whom he pampered with his pain, raised her head from the pillow and opened her eyes because the god of sleep who had sat beside her bed rose up, in the hour when the god of dreams laid his finger on her eyelids so that she once again dozed off briefly while he told her what she had never suspected and breathed it so softly that when she awoke she had forgotten everything – in the hour we parted again. And whatever the god of dreams confined to her, she still did not dream of what passed between us."
Soren Kierkegaard - Repetition
"The easy possibility of letter-writing must—seen merely theoretically—have brought into the world a terrible disintegration of souls.[…]How on earth did anyone get the idea that people can communicate with one another by letter! Of a distant person one can think, and of a person who is near one can catch hold—all else goes beyond human strength. Writing letters, however, means to denude oneself before the ghosts, something for which they greedily wait. Written kisses don’t reach their destination, rather they are drunk on the way by the ghosts. It is on this ample nourishment that they multiply so enormously."
Franz Kafka. from Letters to Milena (via litafficionado)
Thursday, February 20, 2014
"Besides my large circle of friends I have another intimate confidant: my melancholy. In the midst of my joy, in the midst of my work, he waves to me, calls me aside, although physically I stay in place. My melancholy is the most loyal mistress I’ve known; what wonder, then, that I love her back."
Søren Kierkegaard, from Either/Or (via litafficionado)
"I have only one friend, Echo. And why is Echo my friend? Because I love my sorrow, and Echo doesn’t take it away from me. I have only one confidant, the silence of the night. And why is it my confidant? Because it is silent."
Søren Kierkegaard, from Either/Or (via litafficionado)
Sunday, January 26, 2014
"I have just returned from a party of which I was the life and soul; witty banter flowed from my lips, everyone laughed and admired me - but I came away, indeed that dash should be as long as the radii of the earth’s orbit ————————————- wanting to shoot myself"

The Diary of Soren Kierkegaard.

absolute gold

Thursday, January 9, 2014
Tuesday, November 26, 2013
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