flâneur

the final act of love is remembering - by loise yves

chlementines.substack.com · 1,358 words · saved by 1 readers

i remember. i will always remember

“I have belonged to you in a way you haven’t to me.” — Anais Nin, Mirages: The Unexpurgated Diary of Anais Nin i’ve always had a penchant for writing. essays, articles, fiction, short stories, love letters. my fingers itch and reach for a pen and a piece of paper whenever a thought lingers. i treat writing as a medium for catharsis, purging all the rotten, rancid longing that enslaves my existence. the act has long embedded itself in the deep-seated fragments of my soul, a constant reminder that this is what i am. through writing, you build parts of yourself brick by brick. may it be…

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