18 notes "Facing your mirror, happy or carefree, you were someone. Unhappy, you weren’t anyone any longer: the lines of your face would fade: you would recognize what you habitually used to call “me,” but you would see someone else looking at you. Your gaze would sweep across your face as if it were made of air: the eyes opposite you would be unfathomable. To animate your features with a wink or a grimace would be of no help: deprived of reason, the expression would be artificial."
Edouard Levé, from Suicide tr. Jan Steyn
October 20th
Tags: Edouard Levé, Edouard Leve, Suicide, reflection, unself, unrecognizable, no help, lit,
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