oh didnt it seem like a an escape into the fake, fake pastures, fake solace, oh hadnt it seemed like the thing we left, or the thing I left, was the real, to abruptly departed from? did not I see the new beginning? did it seem to stale and already dead? i hadnt even realized exactly how different destinies could be, although the signs were in front of me. but depression was a benign growth, nostalgia a growing sling. i stil felt mesmerized by the landscape. everything had the appearance of being under construction, yet only to probably look uglier. i could sniff the pines then and now and they would be the same pines, i could face myself then and now and still bear the same witness, only now i see how there is no real and no fake- there is something more rareified, less distinguishable- for how could you crown anything royal once the top of the class had disappeared? oh, but make no mistake, how the laurels around my feet and yours are the patterns that contain the steel courage, the only loving curiosity. we could look at the pines or the clouds and see our stunned faces, and sometimes, not all the time, but sometimes, thats how wed want it.
Posted on: Sun, 06 Jul 2014 01:16:06 +0000
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