“Let not future things disturb you, for you will come to them, if it shall be necessary, having with you the same reason which you now use for present things.”Marcus Aurelius I am tired of reaction. I grow weary of anticipating disaster. I do not want to cease thinking rationally, but would like to avoid … Continue reading Let go.
isolation
Catalysts are made to be burned.
I do not want this. With every fiber of my being, I do not want to be here. The heat. The ants. The fucking gravestone that I refuse to maintain. I never bring flowers. I shouldn’t have to. I should not have to come here. For fuck’s sake. It’s hot and humid today; the marble … Continue reading Catalysts are made to be burned.
Thinking makes it so.
Automat, Edward Hopper. For years I’ve wanted to live according to everyone else’s morals. I’ve forced myself to live like everyone else, to look like everyone else. I’ve said what was necessary to join together, even when I felt separate. And after all of this, catastrophe came. I must rebuild a truth — after having … Continue reading Thinking makes it so.
The Deep Despair/Hope of Holidays Alone
Emily’s first End of Line post!
Meditations on the consensual hallucination.
Everyone is happy on social media. I know I promised to finish my thought on Kundera, and I will! I promise. I’ve gotten sidetracked by a series of conversations I’ve had on social media, however, as one does. I don’t think I’ve actually finished a thought since I joined Twitter. It’s quite embarrassing for someone … Continue reading Meditations on the consensual hallucination.
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.
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.
memento mori.
In which I try with limited success to avoid the cliche of Hamlet's most famous soliloquy.
end of line. 