چه اهمیتی داره که دوست داشته می‌شم یا نه. من فقط دوست دارم همیشه وجود داشته باشم و شب‌ها شعر بخونم. چه اهمیتی داره که تو فکر می‌کنی من چه شکلیم یا حتی خودم فکر می‌کنم چه شکلیم. من فقط دوست دارم باشم. حتی اگر زشت‌ترین و غمگین‌ترین انسان روی این کره‌ی خاکی باشم. به من فرصت داده شده که زنده باشم. زندگی کنم. شعر بخونم. گریه کنم.
As I sat there working on transcriptions at my round table in the morning, what I would have settled for was not his friendship, not anything. Just to look up and find him there, suntan lotion, straw hat, red bathing suit, lemonade. To look up and find you there, Oliver. For the day will come soon enough when I’ll look up and you’ll no longer be there.
Let summer never end, let him never go away, let the music on perpetual replay play forever, I’m asking for very little, and I swear I’ll ask for nothing more.
Oggi è stato meglio di ieri. Dopo colazione, ho bevuto una tazza di caffè mentre guardavo dei video su TikTok. La colazione era semplice come sempre, ma non mi è piaciuto il pane: aveva un sapore sgradevole. Sabato avrei dovuto comprare il mio pane preferito.
La parte migliore è stata quando ho letto "Chiamami col tuo nome" mentre ascoltavo l'audiolibro. Ho pubblicato delle bellissime citazioni su Fable e lì ho trovato nuovi amici.
Prima di fare la spesa, ho ascoltato "Sarà perché ti amo" e ho immaginato di ballare in Italia.
Better stay away from him, I thought. To think that I had almost fallen for the skin of his hands, his chest, his feet that had never touched a rough surface in their existence—and his eyes, which, when their other, kinder gaze fell on you, came like the miracle of the Resurrection. You could never stare long enough but needed to keep staring to find out why you couldn’t.
