{Words by Anaïs Nin, from The Diary Of Anais Nin, Vol. 4 (1944-1947) / Cynthia Cruz from diagnosis,The glimmering room}
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the feminine, the masculine, the artistic urge to stare at the paintings until they make you hallucinate, to read poems until they seep inside your soul, to write such words that hold the power to shatter a person's heart and fill the void at the same time.
“You’re so pretty” but then you remember Darwish said “I melt at your glances and become music.”