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Entropy

@hush-syrup / hush-syrup.tumblr.com

hush evening swims into grass hush watersleep rains
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Oh, but self-loathing was just so enticing, so holy, so unassailable! The cynic in him cried, Take my hope! Take my life! Who cares? As if surrender could make up for his failures or help the people he loved. What a lie to think he could whip himself to redemption. What a loathsome lie!

From The Hod King by Josiah Bancroft

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There is a loneliness that can be rocked. Arms crossed, knees drawn up, holding, holding on, this motion, unlike a ship's, smooths and contains the rocker. It's an inside kind--wrapped tight like skin. Then there is the loneliness that roams. No rocking can hold it down. It is alive. On its own. A dry and spreading thing that makes the sound of one's own feet going seem to come from a far-off place.

From Beloved by Toni Morrison

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