Speak for me, I'm mute.
Nov. 2nd, 2003 03:23 amFaces along the bar
Cling to their average day:
The lights must never go out,
The music must always play,
All the conventions conspire
To make this fort assume
The furniture of home;
Lest we should see where we are,
Lost in a haunted wood,
Children afraid of the night
Who have never been happy or good.
-- W.H. Auden
I can't go on; I'll go on; I can't go on.
-- Samuel Beckett
Character is psychosis.
-- Otto Rank
Love again: wanking at ten past three
(Surely he's taken her home by now?),
The bedroom hot as a bakery,
The drink gone dead, without showing how
To meet tomorrow, and afterwards,
And the usual pain, like dysentery.
Someone else feeling her breasts and cunt,
Someone else drowned in that lash-wide stare,
And me supposed to be ignorant,
Or find it funny, or not to care,
Even ... but why put it into words?
Isolate rather this element
That spreads through other lives like a tree
And sways them on in a sort of sense
And say why it never worked for me.
Something to do with violence
A long way back, and wrong rewards,
And arrogant eternity.
-- Philip Larkin
We have dealt no great blow to the Devil by renaming him "neurosis".
-- Carl Jung
Cling to their average day:
The lights must never go out,
The music must always play,
All the conventions conspire
To make this fort assume
The furniture of home;
Lest we should see where we are,
Lost in a haunted wood,
Children afraid of the night
Who have never been happy or good.
-- W.H. Auden
I can't go on; I'll go on; I can't go on.
-- Samuel Beckett
Character is psychosis.
-- Otto Rank
Love again: wanking at ten past three
(Surely he's taken her home by now?),
The bedroom hot as a bakery,
The drink gone dead, without showing how
To meet tomorrow, and afterwards,
And the usual pain, like dysentery.
Someone else feeling her breasts and cunt,
Someone else drowned in that lash-wide stare,
And me supposed to be ignorant,
Or find it funny, or not to care,
Even ... but why put it into words?
Isolate rather this element
That spreads through other lives like a tree
And sways them on in a sort of sense
And say why it never worked for me.
Something to do with violence
A long way back, and wrong rewards,
And arrogant eternity.
-- Philip Larkin
We have dealt no great blow to the Devil by renaming him "neurosis".
-- Carl Jung
A demon in my view
Date: 2003-11-02 04:18 am (UTC)Here's another one for you -- "Alone," by Edgar Allan Poe:
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were -- I have not seen
As others saw -- I could not bring
My passions from a common spring --
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow -- I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone --
And all I loved -- I loved alone --
Then -- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life -- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still --
From the torrent or the fountain --
From the red cliff of the mountain --
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold --
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by --
From the thunder and the storm --
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view --
Re: A demon in my view
Date: 2003-11-03 01:12 pm (UTC)One of my favorites.