December 2010
15 posts
“It’s strange that words are so inadequate. Yet, like the asthmatic struggling...”
– T.S. Eliot (via readersquill, fatalistichues)
“It’s strange that words are so inadequate. Yet, like the asthmatic struggling...”
– T.S. Eliot (via readersquill, fatalistichues)
Wiffenpoof
Mom: You need to snag yawself a wiffenpoof!!
Me: huh?
Mom: A wiffenpoof. An a Capella singer form Yale.
the lightness has left me. perhaps it was never really here. every step is a battle. when there is nowhere to go, movement seems more fruitless than it ever had in the past. i was always aware of the trivial races we’re all participating in, but it never came to me as clearly as this. even in clarity, it seems too blurry to piece together. and the fact that i cease to care — to try...
i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart) i am never without it (anywhere i go you go, my dear; and whatever is done by only me is your doing, my darling) i fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) i want no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true) and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant and whatever a sun will always sing is you here is the deepest secret...
