Emily’s first End of Line post!
adulting
Levity.
I have no idea where I got this picture but I love it. But is heaviness truly deplorable and lightness splendid?The heaviest of burdens crushes us, we sink beneath it, it pins us to the ground. But in the love poetry of every age, the woman longs to be weighed down by the man’s body. … Continue reading Levity.
This is the way the world ends.
Datta: what have we given?My friend, blood shaking my heartThe awful daring of a moment’s surrenderWhich an age of prudence can never retractBy this, and this only, we have existedWhich is not to be found in our obituariesThe Wasteland, TS Eliot. I have a hard time writing about faith. I grew up Baptist, a pastor’s … Continue reading This is the way the world ends.
This wave.
The Tempest. J.W. Waterhouse / 1916 How do we learn to be still? To allow people the grace to ebb and flow around us without reacting to their emotional whirlpools, their tempests, or their doldrums? Don’t look at me — I have no idea. I am a reactor. I become a tempest in response to … Continue reading This wave.
But I don’t want to.
On the heels of the lighthearted post I wrote last night, I’ve realized that I really must become more serious. More grounded. Less flighty and superficial. I know, I know — it’s a tall order. There really is so little going on in my head. What I’m doing right now is called “procrastination.” I’ve got … Continue reading But I don’t want to.
Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered.
Come, take my hand. What’s done cannot be undone.Lady Macbeth. Ophelia, Waterhouse. “What do you want to be when you grow up?” In grade school I wanted to be an actress, until my mom spent several panicked hours lecturing me on the odds against me ever becoming famous, the inability to support oneself on the … Continue reading Nymph, in thy orisons be all my sins remembered.
And let my cry come unto thee.
And they were behind us, reflected in the pool. “The surface glittered out of heart of light,And they were behind us, reflected in the pool.Then a cloud passed, and the pool was empty.Go, said the bird, for the leaves were full of children,Hidden excitedly, containing laughter.Go, go, go, said the bird: human kindCannot bear very … Continue reading And let my cry come unto thee.
Teach us to care and not to care
Blessèd sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden, Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood Teach us to care and not to care Teach us to sit stillTS Eliot, Ash Wednesday Saint Eulalia, John William Waterhouse. This isn't the passage I'd initially planned on using, but there's a beauty to … Continue reading Teach us to care and not to care
Thinking about stuff at 3am.
Life is pain, Highness. Anyone who says differently is selling something. The Dying Gaul. I can't sleep, even though I would really love it. My mind spins when everything is quiet, and I usually try to distract myself to get it to stop. But I've got Kaleo's All the Pretty Girls stuck in my head, … Continue reading Thinking about stuff at 3am.
Some thoughts on hope, and what it means.
There's something about hope that just rips through the scar tissue and finds the weakness in the armor we have built up to make our lives liveable. Maybe it's just me. Maybe I am susceptible to hope because I so desperately want to believe in it. I want to believe that there is more than … Continue reading Some thoughts on hope, and what it means.
end of line. 