24 June 2010
22 June 2010
there are two trashbags full of memories ive decided i dont need anymore. you might say, "well, theyre still stored in your head." and then i'd tell you that ive realized while sifting through all of this shit, how much doesn't actually stick. how many experiences we have that actually just dissappear forever. and this i think was my point in saving countless ticket stubs and pamphlets and notes and photos. and as disturbing to me as it is that we can soak in moments as willfully as possible and yet they can still vanish from our grasp without any permission... i think it would be too draining to have really retained all of it. and i think that's why there are now two trashbags waiting for the dump. thats at least how i justify the act of throwing away countless moments. i wonder who will find them and what they'll think of me.
15 June 2010
telegraph and hand holding and sober laughs. things are seeming to intertwine just right and for this i am content. i did a double take at his face and i remembered that that jaw is something special. and propping my head against the cold window at 3 in the morning it dawned on me, 'i cant believe im doing this.' rilke's words still ring in my head and wine still makes me more giddy and i feel free and ready for a new adventure. i feel ready to take risks because i feel strong again. my soul and my heart feel full. does that make sense? its an intangible concept, and yet it seems the only way to describe my current state. my soul and my heart feel full.
02 June 2010
I recently realized that I never go on drives. It’s never struck me as something even minutely appealing. But this last week I’ve been noticing how much I love being in the car sometimes; how some of my best contemplation happens on the road with my music up to decibel 25 and endless cigarettes calming my mind. So today after work, I just started driving. I drove and drove and drove, for an hour. Sometimes I felt stupid… driving with the forced intent of being on a contemplative drive, avoiding the freeway because of traffic, and being confined by stoplights and city walls. But I drove anyways. I drove and I listened to the songs that made all of us dance harder and kiss harder and laugh harder in May. I thought of how I would give anything to live my life as poetically as Rilke encourages, and tried to take his advice and listen to my innermost being. It was wonderful.
"You are so young, so before all beginning, and I want to beg you, as much as I can dear sir, to be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer."- Rainier Maria Rilke
'Letters to a Young Poet' has been sitting on my shelf since my 18th birthday, and for whatever reason, I was never possessed with the motivation to read it. I started it tonight, and I'm almost finished. It is blowing my mind, and for the time being, my own personal Bible.