and it hit my neighbor's house and chipped the siding
i don't think anyone saw me
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receiving colors and imagining space
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June
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- I've been dressing up like a lesbian for fun
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About Me
horse on empty street
1 comment:
I sorely grieve over time's passage. It's always with exaggerated emotion that I leave something behind, whatever it may be. The miserable rented room where I lived for a few months, the dinner table at the provincial hotel where I stayed for sex days, even the sad waiting room at the station where I spent two hours waiting for a train -- yes, their loss grieves me. But the special things of life -- when I leave them behind and realize with all of my nerves' sensibility that i'll never see or have them again, at least not in the exact same moment -- grieve me metaphysically. A chasm opens up in my soul and a cold breeze of hour of god blows across my pallid face. Time! the past! Something -- a voice, a song, a chance fragrance-- lifts the curtain on my soul's memories... That which I was and will never again be! That which I had and will never again have! The dead! The dead who loved me in my childhood. Whenever I remember them, my whole soul shivers and I feel exiled from all hearts, alone in the night of myself, weeping like a beggar before the closed silence of all doors.
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