How often have you bartered with bone, only to sell yourself short?
Why do you find the unavailable so alluring?
Where did it begin? what went wrong? And who made you feel so worthless?
If they wanted you, wouldn’t they have chosen you?
All this time, you were begging for love silently, thinking they couldn’t hear you, but they smelt it on you, you must have known that they could taste the desperate on your skin?
And what about the others that would do anything for you, why did you make them love you until you could not stand it?
How are you both of these women, both flighty and needful?
Where did you learn this, to want what does not want you?
Where did you learn this, to leave those that want to stay?"
”I may be sitting in a cafe listening to the music, drinking coffee. The lights are vivid, the music violent. I am keenly aware of everything, from the stain on the table to the face of the man sitting farthest from the table, aware of what the waiters are discussing. I feel my body alive and warm inside of my fur coat. I am wearing a hood with a fur edge. I feel at moments I am an actress.
I feel I am a Polish countess, a Hungarian singer, an Eskimo princess, all out of novels. The men always believe in my disguises. They believe. They never step behind the stage to say: “You’re lying. You were lying when you sewed the hood. You’re not what you seem to be.”
If I answer: “What am I?,” this only precipitates my departure.
As soon as someone denies my existence, appearance, and I am exposed as a disguised being, as a spy from another world, this other world opens its luminous jaws and engulfs me. I am here only while someone believes in me, while some human being swears to my presence and loves me.”
Anaïs Nin
