we are sculptors

we are like sculptors,

constantly

carving out of others

the image we

>> long for,

>> need,

>> love

or

>> desire,

often against reality,

against their benefit,

and always,

in the end,

a disappointment,

because it does not fit them.

× anaïs nin ×
from
fire: from a journal of love – the unexpurgated diary of anaïs nin (1934-1937)

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