I had this realisation about skeletons that I can’t verbalise to anyone because the way I wanna describe it is like “When you see a skeleton, that’s a dead skeleton.” And then they look at me the way that people do.
But like…. alive skeletons are so different!! I can’t think of a metaphor here or any way to explain it other than just to like, make people learn the same stuff about skeletons that gave me this Moment. When you’re alive your bones have blood in them, and all kinds of gooey stuff, and they grow and get sick and make new tissue, like your skeleton is an alive part of your alive body.
and dead skeletons aren’t! Dead skeletons are just fancy rocks your body made!!
this is a very true but very endearing way of putting it.
Skeletons in your body are making your blood! Imagine if they did that outside of your body!
His voice was a hesitating, muted baritone, wonderfully melodious, although it never left the middle range in strength and pitch. Voice, gesture, look, all radiated the peace of understanding and goodness…his German had a hard accent, like that of the German spoken by the Czechs. The Czech accent of the German which I am thinking of is harsh…Kafka’s speech never made this impression. It seemed angular because of the inner tension: every word a stone.
– Gustav Janouch, Conversations with Kafka
Here let me remark that Kafka, as if to compensate for the remarkable gift he had of musical speech, had no talent for pure music.
