Wednesday, March 17, 2010

scavenger

Remembering that time is like watching old pictures of myself in a prison camp picking edible scraps out of the garbage heap, and knowing that without that garbage I might have starved to death...How little I settled for in the way of human contact, compared to what I was conscious of wanting. 
- Audre Lorde, Zami: A New Spelling of My Name 

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