sometimes I realize there are people on my dash heavily burdened with horrible things
and I just desperately hope that you’ll be okay, you’ll find the strength to continue and do the right thing for yourself, you’ll make it through and be happy
all of you
La Chenille de la carotte (1911), director unknown
dont reblog too often but this is beautiful
i need to stay as far away from inside my mind
contrary to my belief, i am far from
the pages can turn
and they will turn
until turning is no longer an option
i’ll grip my chest
intake all breath
and stifle oncoming corruption
words are scarce and so am i
when you can find me
tell your stories, for i won’t hear them
i’ll see to it that i’m there
except i won’t be.
Franz Kafka, the story goes, encountered a little girl in the park where he went walking daily. She was crying. She had lost her doll and was desolate.
Kafka offered to help her look for the doll and arranged to meet her the next day at the same spot. Unable to find the doll he composed a letter from the doll and read it to her when they met.
"Please do not mourn me, I have gone on a trip to see the world. I will write you of my adventures." This was the beginning of many letters. When he and the little girl met he read her from these carefully composed letters the imagined adventures of the beloved doll. The little girl was comforted.
When the meetings came to an end Kafka presented her with a doll. She obviously looked different from the original doll. An attached letter explained: “my travels have changed me…”
Many years later, the now grown girl found a letter stuffed into an unnoticed crevice in the cherished replacement doll. In summary it said: “every thing that you love, you will eventually lose, but in the end, love will return in a different form.”
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