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be_themoonoh, internets, I am tired and weary, for I have spent over a week worrying about whether my dad will freak out today or not, and being in charge of the house, and trying to make Kat and Sam do what they are supposed to do, but they will never listen. And today was not really that good, because there were People and my dad dragged us to his church at the last minute, and though I wore heels (in point of fact, my most fabulous purple shiny heels) to intimidate People, the music still shook my bones. And Papa was very irritable, and my sister got married yesterday in New Zealand and she was beautiful and I love her and I am very, very tired. Also there were People.
religion wearies me right now, especially after I was accidentally linked to the Narnia forums on ff.net. Internets, I was horrified. Together with Unsavory Business in the newspapers, my faith in humanity has been dealt a serious blow, though Doctor Who yesterday did much to help restore it. <333 ("There is an escaped fish in the area." also, "Gotcha.")
have poetry! it makes me happy.
Manifesto by Margot Schilpp
I know that dying is how we escape
the rest of our lives. I think that trees
send us a message: do not believe
you are lucky. The skins of apples
and the peeler will marry; it's simply
a question of when. Believe
in mourning and carrion birds.
Look how their fleshy treasures
dissolve in the sun before their very eyes.
To love something
you must have considered what it means
to do without. You must have thought
about it—the coefficient of the body
is another body—but do not forget
that there are people who are willing
to staple your palm to your chest.
Know there are places it isn't wise to go.
Begin again if you must: there are ways
to make up for what you have been before,
the dust in the corners that collects you.
Sympathy is overrated.
Rethink how lack
becomes everyone's master, drives us
into town and spends our money.
Quiet: the trees are napping.
Water meets itself again.
We reach for the days that precede us
and the world keeps us from knowing
too much. The body loves music,
the abandoned road of it;
each day a peel
lengthens in the shadow of blossoms,
fabric weaves itself into light.
Pay attention to the patterns. They repeat—
terraces erode, groves lie fallow—
order is cognate of joy.
religion wearies me right now, especially after I was accidentally linked to the Narnia forums on ff.net. Internets, I was horrified. Together with Unsavory Business in the newspapers, my faith in humanity has been dealt a serious blow, though Doctor Who yesterday did much to help restore it. <333 ("There is an escaped fish in the area." also, "Gotcha.")
have poetry! it makes me happy.
Manifesto by Margot Schilpp
I know that dying is how we escape
the rest of our lives. I think that trees
send us a message: do not believe
you are lucky. The skins of apples
and the peeler will marry; it's simply
a question of when. Believe
in mourning and carrion birds.
Look how their fleshy treasures
dissolve in the sun before their very eyes.
To love something
you must have considered what it means
to do without. You must have thought
about it—the coefficient of the body
is another body—but do not forget
that there are people who are willing
to staple your palm to your chest.
Know there are places it isn't wise to go.
Begin again if you must: there are ways
to make up for what you have been before,
the dust in the corners that collects you.
Sympathy is overrated.
Rethink how lack
becomes everyone's master, drives us
into town and spends our money.
Quiet: the trees are napping.
Water meets itself again.
We reach for the days that precede us
and the world keeps us from knowing
too much. The body loves music,
the abandoned road of it;
each day a peel
lengthens in the shadow of blossoms,
fabric weaves itself into light.
Pay attention to the patterns. They repeat—
terraces erode, groves lie fallow—
order is cognate of joy.
