Sunday, August 26, 2012

Packing at thirteen
With a heavy heart but lightly treading

A glimpse into the soul of things
And the morning's early light

An erudite child,
I was wiser then.

I abide,
Even though my spirit has run dry

Carry me home again.

Saying goodbye to summer with a heavy heart. Thank you Gershwin for the tone of melancholy, this song couldn't speak more to my present emotions. 

Monday, August 20, 2012

We're nothing but a few intellectual fools. We think we know everything about the world around us when we conclude we cannot know anything about it. We are masters of communication but we seldom speak. We are satirical about love when we have never loved. We treat people like objects and conclude that we are suppose to feel worthless, because that is the human condition.

I wanted to love you. I did. I wanted to talk to you and I wanted to listen. Yet, somewhere along the way our brain swept us up and we thought too much about it all. Then we abandoned our minds into that all-encompassing sea of irrationality that we worship as the god of truth instead of looking at our own reflections. We will never have all the answers and I will never run out of questions. Yet, sometimes perhaps, I ask too many. Can you forgive an inquisitive fool?

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

"Every present action is partly a reaction to a past that unceasingly haunts the presence of the living. In order to attain one's life, in order to add to life more life, it is necessary to answer for the dead, to live among specters." -Benjamin Boysen on "The Dead"

Monday, August 13, 2012

I don't have experience or good equipment, but I want to make music so I do it. Check it out!

Thursday, August 9, 2012

Sometimes I fancy I smell you
Behind the door-bell,
In my private cell,
My versions of hell,
Lurking in heavenly corners.

Lurking in heavenly corners
All these versions of hell,
In my private cell,
Behind the door-bell.
Sometimes I fancy I smell you.

Tuesday, August 7, 2012

I want to stop asking what life can give me and to start giving back. Ambition is a noble quality, but gratitude is greater. Perhaps it is not a question of liking things, but of being able to appreciate beauty in unlikely places. My orectic values are changing, thanks be to God.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

I cannot escape your perspicacious observations, but my weltsmerz has  vanished. I am wildly happier than I have been in years. I used to feel old and withered before my time, and now the earth seems a ripe apple waiting for me to bite. It is shifting beneath my feet. I have not stepped foot in a church in over a month.  I feel wild but free, and just as close to the divine as ever. Don't leave me or don't make me leave. I am grasping onto my happiness with everything I have before it slips away again, between my fingers back into that infinite darkness that encompasses the mundane. 

Saturday, August 4, 2012

"As a youth one dreams of love, by the time you wake, it is too late." -Gulland

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

A piece of paper or a blank screen has always been the best way to organize my thoughts. The uncorrupted whiteness is begging to be polluted by spots, lines, and dots of black. The night is setting in on my little piece of paper. There was a time when I would have sat in front of a paper and covered it entirely black, except for perhaps the smallest corner. It would have said all that I had to say. Perhaps this time, it's better if I leave the rest of it un-adultered. Maybe then these black thoughts will go away.