Home > Topic > my apartment
1 " So I am not a broken heart. I am not the weight I lost or miles or ran and I am not the way I slept on my doorstep under the bare sky in smell of tears and whiskey because my apartment was empty and if I were to be this empty I wanted something solid to sleep on. Like concrete. I am not this year and I am not your fault.I am muscles building cells, a little every day, because they broke that day,but bones are stronger once they heal and I am smiling to the bus driver and replacing my groceries once a week and I am not sitting for hours in the shower anymore. I am the way a life unfolds and bloom and seasons come and go and I am the way the spring always finds a way to turn even the coldest winter into a field of green and flowers and new life. I am not your fault. "
― Charlotte Eriksson , You're Doing Just Fine
2 " Last night somebody broke into my apartment and replaced everything with exact duplicates... When I pointed it out to my roommate, he said, " Do I know you? "
3 " My head is in a world of hurt. My apartment is trashed. At the end of today, I could either be dating the girl who saves my family’s future or is going to be the ending of it. When did life get so damn complicated? "
― Pella Grace , Knock Love Out (A Very Sexy Romance)
4 " I had the dream again. I was leaning in the back corner of the elevator in my building looking down at the bundle of keys in my hand. Below my hand were the blurred outlines of my black leather lace-up boots and my frayed black jeans. There was ink all over my legs from the screen-printers in my shop. There was ink on the skin beneath the rips at my knee and my thigh where the rough edge of my work table had worn through... The detail was vivid, but there was an ethereal sparkle to everything around the edges. The periphery washed out of focus as if I was looking through a narrow lens... Then the elevator stopped and the door opened. A woman climbed on board. Her face was concealed behind large sunglasses. The realism of the dream became unsteady and I lost grip. The images became fleeting close-ups, stills, and sensations. She was looking at me and my heart began to race... A part of me worried that I was drunk and about to make an embarrassing pass at some poor woman from my building. But when I reached for her, she reached for me too... She pulled my hand down and then the elevator began to plummet. I realized I didn’t have much time. I was surrounded by her scent and warmth... I was so overwhelmed with the sensuality of everything that I lost myself in her... Then I watched her eyes fade into the blackness of my apartment as I woke up. "
5 " The evening I went for a walk. To walk for the sake of walking is something I seldom do.Inside my apartment I'd felt inexplicably anxious. I needed to talk to someone, to be reassured. Or perhaps I needed to confess my sin: I was once again having impure thoughts about saving the world. Or it was neither of these--I was afraid I was dreaming. Indeed, considering the events of the day, it was likely that I was dreaming. I sometimes fly in my dreams, and each time I say to myself, " At last--it's happening in reality and not in a dream!" In any case, I needed to talk to someone, and I was alone. This is my habitual condition, by choice--or so I tell myself. Mere acquaintanceship leaves me unsatisfied, and few people are willing to accept the burdens and risks of friendship as I conceive of it. "
6 " Have you ever done something so far out of your normal behavior that it was freeing?” She wouldn’t plead, but she wasn’t above a little coercion. She whispered into his ear and gave the lobe a quick nibble. “I mean. We’re stuck here together. I like you a lot and have talked to you more than anyone else in a long time. If this was a date I’d be thinking of letting you into my apartment for a nightcap or whatever it is people call it now. Want to throw morals and all that out the window for a little bit? "
― Lea Barrymire
7 " Day pushed God out of his space and turned to walk away without another word.“Oh no you don’t,” God snarled before grabbing Day around his waist and pulling him back into the darkness of the alley. He pushed Day up against the brick wall and pressed his forehead hard against his. “You think I’m just going to let you walk off?”“Yep. Just like you did this morning,” Day replied without a second thought.He’d be damned if that response didn’t hurt like hell. He kept their foreheads touching but lost some of his anger. “I apologized for that.”“You sent me a goddamn text message, coward. Now get off me. I’m going home…alone now, thanks to you,” Day hissed.“You were really going to fuck that guy?” God asked incredulously.“You’re goddamn right I was,” Day retorted.“Even though you’re in love with me?”Why did God say that? He watched his partner’s face go from mad to stark-raving livid. Before he could process what was happing, Day had caught him with a right punch twice to his rib cage making him cry out in pain at his already tender ribs.“Fuck!” God yelled as he was shoved backward hard enough to almost knock him off balance since he was already doubled over.“Can’t believe you just said that, asshole,” Day said while moving in on him again. “Think I’m going to let you string me along?”God held his ribs and put one hand up to stop Day’s approach but it was useless. Day dropped like a martial arts master and did a backward spin kick, effectively knocking both God’s legs from under him and sending him crashing to the ground—and two-hundred and fifty pounds hitting the asphalt really hurt.“The bigger they are, the harder they fucking fall,” Day snarled, and began to move in again.What the fuck?God knew Day was quick, he’d seen him in action too many times. God’s only defense was his muscle, but he had to get his hands on Day first, which wouldn’t be easy. God rolled and came up off the ground, quicker than Day expected, and he caught Day’s left punch in mid-throw and spun him around. He yanked Day into his chest but took a hard elbow to his right cheek with Day’s right arm before he was able to secure it with the other one.“Enough,” God growled in his ear. Day’s back was pressed hard against God’s chest, while God held both hand’s tightly in front of him. “Stop fighting me.”“No,” Day snapped.“Stop fighting me, Leo. Because I love you too,” God said, his lips pressed firmly against Day’s ear. “You can’t fuck that other guy because you’re mine,” he whispered.God felt Day’s body go limp in his tight hold and he took the opportunity to spin him around to face him. He looked into soft hazel eyes and lost himself. “I do, sweetheart. I think I may always have. I just didn’t know it until after you walked out of my apartment this morning.” God took a deep breath and shook his head, his eyes squeezed shut at the vision that popped up. “After I hurt you.”Day didn’t pull away, but God could see the hurt was still there. Man, how he wished he could take it all back. He swore he would have done it all differently. “Leo. Please forgive me. I’m so sorry, and I promise I’ll never put my hands on you in anger again.” God watched Day for any signs of forgiveness. Day’s head was down, he was still as a rock, and he still hadn’t spoken.God released Day’s arms, took one hand and slowly lifted Day’s chin so he could look into those beautiful eyes again. Day’s eyes were moist but focused.“Say something, sweetheart. Tell me you forgive me. Tell me you love me, or tell me to go to hell, just say something,” God begged, the silence driving him mad.God was beginning to think he’d really lost his best friend until Day finally spoke. “I usually don’t like endearments but I think I like you calling me sweetheart. "
8 " No one can win against kipple," he said, " except temporarily and maybe in one spot, like in my apartment I've sort of created a stasis between the pressure of kipple and nonkipple, for the time being. But eventually I'll die or go away, and then the kipple will again take over. It's a universal principle operating throughout the universe; the entire universe is moving toward a final state of total, absolute kippleization. "
9 " Oh-" I rest my back against the door to my apartment and purr as I slide down to the floor. " I need to get a tux too." " GREAT. We'll stop at the Tux Boutique tomorrow... while we're out making babies. I mean DELIVERIES. Sorry-" " I'd love that. Making babies... that is... "
10 " Hangovers are a vivid form of vengeance. Last night my apartment became the venue for a small, introverted chardonnay festival. A melancholy choir of Bulgarians provided the entertainment, via a set of headphones that ended up irredeemably tangled beneath the bed. Part of me just watched. The other part was in charge. "
― Liz Jensen , The Rapture
11 " But it wasn't the right season to lift off. Not yet. I sat in my apartment and looked out over the city, and I just didn't feel any passion to write about the place. I didn't give a damn about local politics; I wasn't moved by the issues. I missed home. And I was frustrated by people who actually thought the world was a centre and that centre was here. ‘The world's a sphere, everyone,’ I wanted to say. ‘The centre of a sphere doesn't lie on its surface. Look up the word 'superficial', when you have a chance. "
― Mohsin Hamid , Moth Smoke