sometimes i wonder why i study; i just spill little pieces of myself out all over the place, it’s all too personal and intimate, none of this is for others, but yet i’m in a environment where i am constantly judged and graded on it by people who are so removed from the intimacy. i don’t know what i’m trying to say but i just know it makes me tired and unwilling sometimes. this final semester is going to be the hardest.
21 year old Antipodean with a penchant for stories.
WARNING: This blog is about to descend into self indulgent nostalgia as I continue to lose grip with reality. • Ask me anything
Plummeting
WARNING: This blog is about to descend into self indulgent nostalgia as I continue to lose grip with reality. • Ask me anything
Plummeting
Marshal Josip Broz Tito with his cabinet and principal staff officers in Drvar, (Bosnia and Herzegovina.) two days before the “Seventh Enemy Offensive” (May, 1944).
I remember every single spot of light that ever gouged a shadow beside your bones.
- Zelda, to F. Scott Fitzgerald.
Paul Celan: In Prague
The half death,
suckled plump on our life,
lay ash-image-true all around us –
we too
went on drinking, soul-crossed, two daggers,
sewn onto heavenstones, wornblood-born
in the night bed,
larger and large
we grew through one another, there was
no more name for
what drove us (one of the thirty-
how many
was my living shadow
that climbed the madness stairs up to you?),
a tower
the Half built itself into Wither,
a Hradčany
out of pure goldmakers-No,
Bone Hebrew,
ground down to sperm,
ran through the hourglass
we swam through, two dreams now, tolling
counter time, in the squares.
July 2nd
Dear Charles,
I am on my way West. I hope to meet you. I feel madly extravagant and altogether quite mad, speeding over the country with not much certainty of when or where I’ll meet you.
But I feel happy tonight. I have sat and watched the cornfields of Iowa darken, seen the homesteads pass by—a white house, a red barn and a brave cluster of green trees in the midst of oceans of flat fields—like an oasis in a desert. The glossy flanks of horses and the glossy leaves of corn. And I have been overcome by the beauty and richness of this country I have flown over so many times with you. And overcome with the beauty and richness of our life together, those early mornings setting out, those evenings gleaming with rivers and lakes below us, still holding the last light. Those fields of daisies we landed on—and dusty fields and desert stretches. Memories of many skies and many earths beneath us—many days, many nights of stars. “How are the waters of the world sweet—if we should die, we have drunk them. If we should sin—or separate—if we should fail or secede—we have tasted of happiness—we must be written in the book of the blessed. We have had what life could give, we have eaten of the tree of knowledge, we have known—we have been the mystery of the universe.”
Good night—
Anne
Paris is always a good idea.
“U gradu ljubavi kazna je biti sam,
dok drugi ljube se a meni ne da se,
jer srce prokleto samo tebe trazi
al do tebe povratna ne vazi.”
Dear world,
I will be purchasing a caravan and a wide assortment of long gypsy skirts. I need a caravan companion however. I am: nice, clean and will keep a lovely portable garden. Join me?
Requirements:
must love bees
.
