Thursday, 7 November 2013

Scared of the middle place between light and nowhere; I don't want to be the one left in there.

Still feeling the coldness in the pit of my stomach when I hear his name, I try my utmost not to let my aversion distract me; after all this is supposed to be the year my mind is steadfast on getting 'it' together and deciding what it is I am going to spend the rest of my One Great Life doing; not that I won't change my mind sporadically and faster than waves turn as soon as I've come to any vague conclusion.

I am sick of this place anyway, God knows, I was ready to leave before I'd even arrived, I am sick this taste, sick of the way I let the grey light in morning after morning when I know it doesn't change anything but the date, and I:

I am sick of my face; sick of the way I
coil up like a spool or a ball of wool. Your tools
are of no use, to you or to anyone.

Don't flatter me with your feigned concern; I learned to discern that from altruism long ago. I having nothing to do but sit here in this room of makeshift familiarity watching your shoulders heave and collapse like Rome or Pompeii; or anything else that was once great.

We stop and sigh for a second, and we just get on with our days.

Also, RIP Lou Reed; such an inspirational beautiful soul you were. I feel the need to share this elegy by the equally wonderful Patti Smith.


  1. I have had these feelings several times before. There's a quote that I strongly believe in: "Someday someone is going to come along and make you realize why it never worked out with anyone else" :)

    1. I love that quote! I do so hope it's true!

  2. That's one of my favorite velvet underground songs. That and Oh! Sweet Nothing. Such brilliance going on there. This post is full of brilliance too. You have a lovely mind for words. Your line about watching his shoulders collapse like something that was once great is breathtakingly perfect.

    Tightrope to the Sun


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