Highsnobiety
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What is Tragedy?

membru din 2 septembrie 2021

What is Tragedy?

　
　　　　　　　　　　　　ḤẠỤṆṬẸḌ
　　　　　　　“She herself is a haunted house.”
　　　　　　Angela Carter, Ṭḥẹ Ḅḷọọḍỵ C̣ḥạṃḅẹṛ
　　　　　　©Highsnobiety　　Language: ENG.
　
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For others, Fall is poetry. The leaves fall and fall as if they are eager to finally kiss the ground; to cover it in a comforting blanket. Earthy hues inspire security and firmness, and clothing is not represented by human confinement but freedom. But when I look out, through the car’s window
For others, Fall is poetry. The leaves fall and fall as if they are eager to finally kiss the ground
covered in thin layers of dust trails, I see death. I see it taking human form. And it’s; everywhere, staring back at me.
covered in thin layers of dust trails, I see death. I see it taking human form. And it’s
„At the radio they said it was going to rain, earlier today.” Anthony’s piercing voice fights; Adele’s melodious one for a moment of dominance. Skyfall fills the interior of the car, plotting with the season that spins its creations before my eyes, rusty leaves forming long carpets of gamboge,
„At the radio they said it was going to rain, earlier today.” Anthony’s piercing voice fights
crimson, and maroon at the bases of the melancholic trees. It almost looks like a painting.; I let out a soft noise, I don’t understand what it represents exactly, but it’s enough to show him that I’ve heard him. I don’t think I did, at all. As I run my forefinger over the cold glass, which I
crimson, and maroon at the bases of the melancholic trees. It almost looks like a painting.
can feel up to my blood, I rest my temple against the same surface whose temperature differs; from my body’s. I create a game by the sloppy movement of my finger until, on the other side of the glass, at the tip of my finger, a drop of rain settles out of the blue. Soon, I can’t see past the
can feel up to my blood, I rest my temple against the same surface whose temperature differs
dust and raindrops outside. It’s getting heavier. I can’t hear Adele anymore. I can’t hear Ant; either, even if I want to this time. I sag back in my seat, skin touched by the warm air that envelops the car’s interior, and I watch the wipers play in unison as they try their best to make Ant’s
dust and raindrops outside. It’s getting heavier. I can’t hear Adele anymore. I can’t hear Ant
vision clear throughout the ride. „God, it’s like the start of a flood,” Ant’s raised tone and the; distress shown through the grimace on his face make me giggle as I watch him struggle to see.
vision clear throughout the ride. „God, it’s like the start of a flood,” Ant’s raised tone and the
„You don’t have to joke about this, you know. Just be careful.” I was just thinking about death; not long ago. I may see it out there, but I want to keep it as metaphorical as possible. I don’t want to see it in its true gruesome form again, sooner than planned. Everything is as if we’ve
„You don’t have to joke about this, you know. Just be careful.” I was just thinking about death
slipped through an imaginary loophole into another reality. It’s raining as hell. Only the bright; light coming from the headlights of passing cars in the other lane assures you that you are still on the road. It’s terrifying.
slipped through an imaginary loophole into another reality. It’s raining as hell. Only the bright
„It’s just rain, Sarai.”
„It’s just rain, Sarai.”
„Just rain that can eventually cause real chaos if you’re not careful, Ant. You don’t know; what you’re saying. Drive slower.”
„Just rain that can eventually cause real chaos if you’re not careful, Ant. You don’t know
„You worry too much–”
„You worry too much–”
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