Tasty

"The brain may take advice, but not the heart, and love, having no geography, knows no boundaries: weight and sink it deep, no matter, it will rise and find the surface: and why not? Any love is natural that lies within a persons nature; only hypocrites would hold a man responsible for what he loves, emotional illiterates and those of righteous envy, who, in their agitated concern, mistake so frequently the arrow pointing to heaven for the one that leads to hell."

Capote, Other Voices, Other Rooms

I just met God. He was on the 5.15 train.

"Death is not an event in life: we do not live to experience death. If we take eternity to mean not infinite temporal duration but timelessness, then eternal life belongs to those who live in the present. Our life has no end in the way in which our visual field has no limits."



— Wittgenstein, Tractatus, 6.431

The Annie to my Susan?

I've never known what's so damaging about a little nostaglia.





now that the scene's set, with so much as a little prompt:


did you sleepwalk your way as i stirred the pot of pit-cries from the sweltering kitchen to the patter of your the jungle drums, seething through the plaster from your den to the cornbread pattern of luau sways,a hazy heated path, a pastel fuzz. soft budding bass notes induce a nose-bleed.

I'm lost in Brighton

An ant in a cornfield,
the lanes run on like veins.
Don't lose your head now,
just remember and float
in enveloping memories of me
your distant comfort (a ghost).
And with my lungs,
the sinews of your heart smile
and our cheeks join in unison:
a single swoon, solitary sky.
With no destination
we can never be lost.
Only wanderers.

The Dynamism of My Concentration

what he said

"In our time it is broadly true that political writing is bad writing. Where it is not true, it will generally be found that the writer is some kind of rebel, expressing his private opinions and not a ‘party line’. Orthodoxy, of whatever colour, seems to demand a lifeless, imitative style. The political dialects to be found in pamphlets, leading articles, manifestos, White papers and the speeches of undersecretaries do, of course, vary from party to party, but they are all alike in that one almost never finds in them a fresh, vivid, homemade turn of speech. When one watches some tired hack on the platform mechanically repeating the familiar phrases — bestial, atrocities, iron heel, bloodstained tyranny, free peoples of the world, stand shoulder to shoulder — one often has a curious feeling that one is not watching a live human being but some kind of dummy: a feeling which suddenly becomes stronger at moments when the light catches the speaker's spectacles and turns them into blank discs which seem to have no eyes behind them. And this is not altogether fanciful. A speaker who uses that kind of phraseology has gone some distance toward turning himself into a machine. The appropriate noises are coming out of his larynx, but his brain is not involved, as it would be if he were choosing his words for himself. If the speech he is making is one that he is accustomed to make over and over again, he may be almost unconscious of what he is saying, as one is when one utters the responses in church. And this reduced state of consciousness, if not indispensable, is at any rate favourable to political conformity."

George Orwell, Politics and the English Language

idiosyncrackatic.

thought of that one myself.