Wednesday, July 25, 2007 biting down hard.Even if, even so, even then. Such pessimistic hope! My thoughts, they form a coil of languishing serpents, who cry out for some semblance of order. But untangling it will mean the revealing of the content, concealed at its very centre and heart, that which must not be known. Banished, they fall below those previously spoken by the tongue, where they lie fallow, secret, and unheard. I wish it can be otherwise. But - to whom shall I speak to, and what shall I speak of, when I cannot stop prophesizing the futures from each imagined and varied speech, when all those different futures lead to the same hollow one? Once, I would have spilled it all through my fingers, but I am more careful now. (Or am I? I wonder.) Only calculated leaks are allowed, these silent whispers of ghosts, but they threaten to take on corporeal form upon my realization that - there will surely come a day, where I can no longer hold them back. Selfishness? Indulgence? Lack of discipline? Loss of self-control? Again, I wonder. No, that's wrong. I know. In this - I have always known. And as Beaumarchais had written in Figaro, "One is wicked, because one sees things clearly." Such wisdom. If only these words aren't idiotically useless. Even so (even then), they are tattooed onto the back of my eyelids. Memento mori. she procrastinated @ 01:23 | |
blueprint I will like to spend my days, as though they are my own, which I mostly end up doing in halves, for duty beckons, and I am answering its clarion call. Soon enough! I am also a veteran procrastinator. fresh monodies two out of many. previous rants August 2004 treatises on life arty jen frivolous pursuits for shallow ppl mulling over "One is wicked, because one see things clearly." - Beaumarchais's Le nozze di Figaro.And there were phlegmatic souls.
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