“There are no mirrors of any kind in here. If there were, I’d want to smash them, but I wouldn’t. Instead, I’d probably just stare at them, giving myself negative affirmations.”
Rasmenia Massoud“Not every daughter mourns the loss of a mother.”
Rasmenia Massoud, Broken Abroad“The counselor says that with more time and more surgeries, I will begin to feel normal again. She says this with a mouth that can still smile. It’s so easy to be reassuring when you have lips.”
Rasmenia Massoud, Human Detritus“Hate isn’t the opposite of love, apathy is. Hating doesn’t free you from feeling anything. You have to carry it around, using every scar, every little memory like a building block. Like a stone in a wall, until you’ve created a new person, a new life that you can live with.”
Rasmenia Massoud, Broken Abroad“I know that mirrors give us a false sense of confidence.” I continued. “The reflection that we see everyday has nothing to do with how others see us. The glass lies.”
Rasmenia Massoud, Human Detritus“There are no mirrors of any kind in here. If there were, I’d want to smash them, but I wouldn’t. Instead, I’d probably just stare at them, giving myself negative affirmations.”
Rasmenia Massoud, Human Detritus“I envy you, your youth. Every woman is still a dream, a thing that can’t exist. Even when you touch her, a creature too beautiful to be real or to cause real pain. It’s different for old men. We have more old wounds from these dreams.”
Rasmenia Massoud, Broken Abroad“We laughed the way that only people who carry each other back from Hell can laugh when they finally get a hunger for the future once again.”
Rasmenia Massoud, Broken Abroad“A city isn’t so unlike a person. They both have the marks to show they have many stories to tell. They see many faces. They tear things down and make new again.”
Rasmenia Massoud, Broken Abroad“Lucius didn’t believe in werewolves. He said that people were too horrible for any other monsters to exist, which he thought was a shame.”
Rasmenia Massoud, Human Detritus“When I walked into the room, I looked down to the floor and saw that each and every garment I owned had been pulled from its rightful place and had been meticulously sliced into countless pieces. One thing was painfully obvious to me: these clothes were symbolic of me; they represented my body.What you really wanted was to slice me into countless pieces.”
Rasmenia Massoud, Human Detritus