Miss you.
“For lonely people are usually lonely not because of hideous deformity or odor or obnoxiousness… Lonely people tend, rather, to be lonely because they decline to bear the psychic costs of being around other humans. They are allergic to people. People affect them too strongly.”
If you’ve got a body you can’t stand
let go of this ridiculous insecurity
you look amazing
especially when you’re not compared to anything
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
Write, for example, ‘The night is starry
and the stars are blue and shiver in the distance.’
The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.
Through nights like this one I held her in my arms.
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.
She loved me, sometimes I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.
Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.
To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.
What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is starry and she is not with me.
This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
My sight tries to find her as though to bring her closer.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.
The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.
I no longer love her, that’s certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.
Another’s. She will be another’s. As she was before mine
Her voice, her bright body. Her infinite eyes.
I no longer love her, that’s certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.
Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.
Because
when you wake up, you will have forgotten the idea completely and miss it like a front tooth, but at least you know how to recognize moments of brilliance, because even at your worst you are fucking incredible.
This is Jonathan, the oldest living reptile on earth. Born in 1832, this picture was taken around 1900. He is also suspected to be the last living tortoise of his kind. Similar to ‘Lonesome George’.
“I love you also means I love you more than anyone loves you, or has loved you, or will love you, and also, I love you in a way that no one loves you, or has loved you, or will love you, and also, I love you in a way that I love no one else, and never have loved anyone else, and never will love anyone else.”
Alright, I gave in. I’m about 3/4 through ‘Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close’.
Anybody wonder where the Black Keys got their sound?
Junior Kimbrough- Most Things Haven’t Worked Out
Conquered Books: 2011 Edition.
Oblivion and other stories- David Foster Wallace (2004) 336 pages.
Girl With Curious Hair-David Foster Wallace (1996) 384 pages.
For Whom the Bell Tolls- Ernest Hemingway (1940) 507 pages.
Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee- Dee Brown (1971) 446 pages.
The Pale King- David Foster Wallace (2011) 547 pages.
Infinite Jest- David Foster Wallace (reissue: 2006) 1,081 pages.
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance- Robert Pirsig (1974) 418 pages.
Consider the Lobster- David Foster Wallace (2006) 343 pages.
Love in the Time of Cholera- Gabriel Garcia Marquez (1988) 348 pages.
A People’s History of the United States: 1492-Present- Howard Zinn (2005) 688 pages.
Currently Reading:
The Town and City- Jack Kerouac
‘Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close’-Jonathan Safran Foer
