To The Little Girl Who Faded With The Dying Light Of October, 1922— My Dearest Cecilia, It Is With

“In my restless dreams, I see that town. Silent Hill. You promised me you'd take me there again someday. But because of me, you were never able to. Well, I'm alone there now… In our “special place.” Waiting for you…" Waiting for you to come to see me. But you never do. And so I wait, wrapped in my cocoon of pain and loneliness. I know I've done a terrible thing to you. Something you'll never forgive me for. I wish I could change that, but I can't. I feel so pathetic and ugly lying here, waiting for you...

If I cannot love you openly like I wish, if I cannot hold your hand when walking Or wrap you in my arms late at night. Then I will love you silently, in my mind and behind closed eyes For there, there is no rejection or heartbreak. And surely it is better to love silently than to not love at all?

—unknown

"I love you. You may as well take my heart Catherine it's already full of you." "Please go!" "What is it? What's wrong my dear?" "You know nothing about me….you've known me only three weeks!" "Three weeks? Catherine I've known you all my life." "All your life?" "It's true, when I heard beautiful music I thought, 'she'd like that'. I looked at flowers knowing that one day I'd give them to you." "Oh stop, stop." "But for my heart there is another love that must come before you, my country."

—Masquerade,

Dangerously Yours

Dear Milena, I wish the world were ending tomorrow. Then I could take the next train, arrive at your doorstep in Vienna, and say: “Come with me, Milena. We are going to love each other without scruples or fear or restraint. Because the world is ending tomorrow”. Perhaps we don’t love unreasonably because we think we have time, or have to reckon with time. But what if we don’t have time? Or what if time, as we know it, is irrelevant? Ah, if only the world were ending tomorrow. We could help each other very much.

— Franz Kafka, Letters to Milena

I look my mum to see The Last Supper part 3 because it was almost Mother's Day.

She thought Jesus wandering around in the garden dragged on too long and that The Chosen was too long and too depressing to watch. I think she's right.

I didn't like how Jesus lied to his disciples at the last supper. "It's nothing," he lied. I also didn't like that Jesus falsely accused the father of asking too much.

My mum said The Chosen focused too much on the other characters, and not enough on Jesus and Judas.

I haven't watched the last supper scene of the chosen. I believe its out in cinemas alone but maybe when I see it I'll probably understand what you mean.

𝑀𝑦 𝐷𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝐽𝑜𝑐𝑒𝑙𝑦𝑛, 𝐼𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑠𝑡𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑘, 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑛'𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑒 𝑎 𝑚𝑜𝑛𝑡ℎ. 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑤 𝑚𝑜𝑜𝑛, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐼 ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑛 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑠𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑒𝑠, 𝑏𝑢𝑡 𝑛𝑜𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑖𝑓𝑢𝑙 𝑓𝑎𝑐𝑒. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑝𝑖𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑚𝑦 𝑏𝑟𝑜𝑘𝑒𝑛 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑜 𝑠𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑏𝑒 𝑝𝑎𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑒𝑦𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑎 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑𝑙𝑒. 𝐼 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟; 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑢𝑛 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑝𝑡ℎ𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟. 𝐼𝑛𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑎𝑑 𝑜𝑓 𝑏𝑒𝑎𝑢𝑡𝑦 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝑖𝑡𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑡𝑜, 𝑡ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡 ℎ𝑎𝑟𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑧𝑒𝑛 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑎𝑏𝑠𝑒𝑛𝑐𝑒 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑏𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑠ℎ𝑒𝑑 𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜. 𝐼 𝑛𝑒𝑥𝑡 𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑒𝑡𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑐𝑖𝑡𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝑃𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑠, 𝐼 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑓𝑖𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑡 𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑖𝑛 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑖𝑛𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑖𝑓 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒. 𝐻𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑔𝑢𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑠 𝑚𝑒… 𝐼𝑡 𝑖𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑔𝑒𝑡𝑠 𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑟𝑜𝑢𝑔ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑑𝑎𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑒𝑠𝑝𝑒𝑐𝑖𝑎𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 ℎ𝑜𝑝𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑎𝑓𝑡𝑒𝑟 𝑦𝑜𝑢'𝑟𝑒 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑒 𝑓𝑟𝑜𝑚 𝑚𝑦 𝑠𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡, 𝑖𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑏𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡𝑖𝑚𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑙𝑜𝑜𝑘 𝑢𝑝𝑜𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝑊𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑠𝑒𝑠𝑠, 𝐼 𝑟𝑒𝑚𝑎𝑖𝑛 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠. 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐾𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑜𝑓 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝐻𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑡.

—William Thatcher, A Knight’s Tale -The Letter

—Severus Snape

"All I am is literature and I am not willing or able to be anything else"

—Franz Kafka