Archive for October, 2004

Tuesday, October 26th, 2004

I took out the trash. I am sometimes struck by the world around me. Tonight: the golden carpet of leaves beneath my feet, the somber blue sky, the solitary moon, the cracking paint, broken windows hiding piles of junk, wasted broom, cracked pot of cigarette butts, illuminated shades that only hint of the troubled world within, my own visible breath escaping and retreating into anonymity. There is a beauty here that no one else sees, that no one else truly experiences, and that will only be known by others in snapshots and second-hand accounts. And it reminds me of other beauty, and of pain.

snapshots and second-hand accounts

Saturday, October 16th, 2004

Andy: When did the light go out of my eyes?
Reflection of Andy: When did you drop your head?

Andy: Are you what others see when they look at me?
Reflection of Andy: I am what you see.

Andy: How can you be so calm and collected when I feel like this?
Reflection of Andy: Think of a lake. “Look before you leap.”

Saturday, October 16th, 2004

We drink like fish because we have heard that they don’t feel pain.

Sunday, October 10th, 2004

I understand Atlas.
I understand burden the way a young child understands heavy.
I understand.

Edit (10/14/04):
I understand Atlas.
I understand weight the way a child understands height.

I understand the logic and the concept—

I have experienced some height, some weight.
I understand, but I do not understand in full.

Ask not for whom the siren wails; it wails for thee.

Thursday, October 7th, 2004

It is 3:30 AM.
I can hear a siren wail, echoing through the valley.
There is no air-raid, no tornado, no chemical leak, no flood, no fire.
Maybe there is another broken heart.

Tuesday, October 5th, 2004

This furnace cannot give me the warmth that I need. There is no amount of energy that can fill this vacuum. The furnace cannot fill this seemingly infinite void, this bounded vacuum.