anioły w ameryce

     

więcej zdjęć (onet)

To jest azyl. Próżnia. To jest cnota nieposiadania niczego. Głębokie zamrożenie uczuć. Możesz być sparaliżowana, a zarazem bezpieczna tutaj. Po to tu przybyłaś. Szanuj wrażliwość ekologii swoich złudzeń.

Threshold of revelation.

I usually say, "Fuck the truth," but mostly, the truth fucks you.

I dreamed we were there. The plane leapt the tropopause, the safe air, and attained the outer rim, the ozone, which was ragged and torn, patches of it threadbare as old cheesecloth, and that was frightening. But I saw something that only I could see, because of my astonishing ability to see such things: Souls were rising, from the earth far below, souls of the dead, of people who had perished, from famine, from war, from the plague, and they floated up, like skydivers in reverse, limbs all akimbo, wheeling and spinning. And the souls of these departed joined hands, clasped ankles, and formed a web, a great net of souls, and the souls were three-atom oxygen molecules, of the stuff of ozone, and the outer rim absorbed them, and was repaired. Nothing's lost forever. In this world, there's a kind of painful progress. Longing for what we've left behind, and dreaming ahead. At least I think that's so. 

I don't understand why I'm not dead. When your heart breaks, you should die. But there's still the rest of you. There's your breasts and your genitals... They're amazingly stupid, like babies or faithful dogs. They don't get it, they just want him. Want him.

People are like planets, you need a thick skin. 

HOF.
5 godzin spektaklu.
pierwszy rząd. 
prawdziwe wzruszenie Chyry. 
Cielecka na wyciągnięcie ręki. 
Stuhr obok mnie. 
łzy Ostaszewskiej
Tyndyk, który jest tak wiarygodny, że aż boli. 
głęboki, wydobywający się z wnętrza ziemi głos Stenki.
Komorowska, Poniedziałek, Celińska

 moje niemożliwe-do-zrobienia pozbieranie się, przeżywanie przez cały dzień do późnych godzin wieczornych okraszone niepowstrzymywanymi łzami.