The morning after
Red eyes puffing skin blurry vision
The liquor or the crying
The mourning after
You spoke bared your soul is criminal
You have not come home to me
there’s a bitter day underway
and thrilling in its chase
it’s coming after you, in pursuit
and keeping me awake
something’s brewing up today
a storm is gonna rise
you will flee or you will stay
and look into my eyes
until then we wait
under the threat of night
under the power lines
till then we wait - paralyzed
moments in the past, unsurpassed
however long we last
to you all things compare - i swear
however long I last
if only you would say
that you broke my heart that day
maybe i’d understand
why i’m supposed to pray
like you’re some kind of lamb
giving me a way
giving me your grace
the son of man - crucified
The older I get the more I realise there are no grown ups and nobody knows what the fuck they’re doing.
God is, but at the same God also is not. The Universe is governed by blind chance and at the same time by a providence with ethical preoccupations. Suffering is gratuitous and pointless, but also valuable and necessary. The universe is an imbecile sadist, but also, simultaneously, the most benevolent of parents. Everything is rigidly predetermined, but the will is perfectly free.
I recently finished reading Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, which has been perhaps the most challenging read of my life. So I’ve been taking some time today to reflect upon/digest its absolute wealth of material, reading various analyses and such. My copy has a forward by Christopher Hitchens on whom I decided to do a bit of research (in what context should I be reading his critiques and so on). So let me just say that he seems like a gigantic dick. I know that isn’t very objective of me but hey. Dude needs to chill.
One of the principal functions of a friend is to suffer (in a milder and symbolic form) the punishments that we should like, but are unable, to inflict upon our enemies
Currently reading through the Vampire Weekend Reddit AMA and falling ever more deeply in love with Ezra Koenig.
Q: What salmon-colored shorts do you find are most breathable for a long day of croquet in the Hamptons?
Ezra: i get mine custom made in hong kong. good luck finding anything of similar quality/fit off the rack
A rolling gold shoulder skyline
Wheat fields in abundant autumn
Desert blossom, ripe springtime
Murky ponds of deep cerulean
Grey and heavy with condensation
Storms pass undetected within
A beckoning solidarity of flesh
Trails untraced in electric innocence
You and I as unknowns on earth
If I can’t trust you then dammit Hannah
There’s no future, there’s no answer
This is a beginning.
This is a virginal essence waiting to be realized by the intersection of the mutual heat and the convenience of desire.
This is a beginning.
This is determination that rips through our own earth’s thickest crust - the search for car keys. This is an impenetrable force being made suddenly aware of its dormancy and the resolve to become whatever it has never been.
This is a beginning.
This is a prayer for continuum, momentum.
