Friday, April 9, 2010

shells, bones and silence

slow night, so long children.

sorry i had been so absent but it has been crazy times, i just got home from crashing somewhere else, i am a bit hazy, but i'm all right. mama made tea, i went through emails and stuff--things that make you feel like you have gotten things back in order--and i put on a new album, so here i go.

first off--alas, ezra's alive! yes, my faithfully weirdo cat showed up in his/her usual spot a few days back, man, you should have seen my face. i haven't been that happy in days (a friend of mine had told me a few days before that that there had been a dead cat lying around in the square which sadly matched my desperate description of "the cat that always waits there!" (always with a finger poiting out and about!)) and the minute i called him/her him/her came running towards me, which wasn't something she/he ever did before (he/she would mostly just stare at my constant come on-s, and would let me pet him/her as he/she would lie there still) so who knows, maybe good ol' Ezra missed me just as I missed him/her. anyways, either way, problem solved. the lost kitten of eden returned.

it's been kind of a good week--minus the psycho midterms and lack of time to do anything of choice--with so many kinds of weather takings their turns. there was rain--as i stepped into the street and looked up just about to go "hey it is raining" november rain began on my ipod (swear to God, you can't make this stuff up). there was sun--such zeppelin days--such good old zeppelin days--i haven't had listened to them in a while, so i've been rezeppelinizing myself for the past few days, and it brings back good memeories. i do wish that since i've been loving you wasn't such a great song though, so that i could listen to it a bit more often. so long story short, spring comes, spring passes. the month of cummings have arrived. not sickly hot nor deadly cold. just the way i like it (well, i may like it better if it rains more often!)--

sorry, my head's a little all over the place so bear with me through this little outburst of opinions. you know what i noticed today--in turkish you say "be friends" and not "make friends" which is so true, so so very real, and so poetically straightforward--because i learnt in the recent days that you can't make friends out of people--it's not a process, not an ongoing action--friendships can be made, sure, and built--but a friend is a state of existence--it is either there or it isn't. you can't force it to happen. i say people are born each other's friends--they are that way because they are that way--it isn't about time or place or attempt or consolation or comfort, it is about something else that comes to this world within you and within him and within her and that something finds soemtimes its equal and you know you have a friend there- "make" has nothing to do with it "be" "as" maybe but not "make"

you can open up to anyone doesn't mean they'll open up to you you can care about anyone or at least you can be respectfully humane towards anyone won't mean you'll get the same thing in return because customs and favors and kindnesses shown to make things are attempts they're tried for they're built or they're mediated--but there is in fact a whole seperate other innate system of spirits or souls or whatever there is that you like to think of people as and in that system sometimes there's a flash sometimes a thunder--but something of a recognition that can only recognize an already existing piece of one another, not a piece that may or may not exist in the future.

anyways so much on that--i don't like not liking people-- it's just that indifference is such a deadly price paid to forget--but sometimes that's the only way there is--because you can't ever make--

moving on. changed the outlook as you've noticed. the title looks a little crappy but oh well.

i don't wanna get this any more scattered that it already is so i'm gonna start wrapping it up--and i'll be doing that with a few great words--

The ant's a centaur in his dragon world.
Pull down thy vanity, it is not man
Made courage, or made order, or made grace,
Pull down thy vanity, I say pull down.


E.P.

oh come on now--it would have been plain rude to have talked about him so much and not letting him speak for himself once--

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