(no subject)

Oh woe, for my mind is churning and nothing is coming out. Don't you hate that feeling? I sit and stare and wish I could desire to read -that- thing or the other thing (but how to choose?? Oh, the horrors of a short attention span). I refresh my friends' list but to no avail. I squirm more, and resist posting random really bad drabbles (omg, you know it's bad when the characters are sulking by stormy windows).

I should do something useful-- or write something-- but I am so blank. My mind is being hopelessly drawn into an awful cycle of randomly surfing lj and groaning at the things people say. Groar.

So. Somebody-- anybody-- tell me something random. Whatever's on your mind.

Here, I'll start: I remember seeing a clip of Northern Exposure last night, and I got this weird feeling of seeing a show you used to love that now means next to nothing to you. I looked at it and was like, "I used to love this" and that should've -meant- something, except it didn't. There are so many feelings that have no exact words to describe them, but especially the memory of love-- it resists being put into words.

Also, man, whoever's doing the Late Late show is really lame. Seriously. Not as lame as the skin-care commercial people. Or Anne Rice. Anne Rice rules them all.

Or, like, ask me something equally random. If you ask me, I shall reply with as much honesty as you happen to desire (rank it! 1 to 5, ahahah, or choose 'nonsense' and I shall make something up).

Save me before my brains leak out of my ears, seriously.
~~

All right, I'll do the poem meme. Diving Into the Wreck by Adrienne Rich is one of my favorite poems. I'll add to this post with more poems as I find them on google :D

First having read the book of myths,
and loaded the camera,
and checked the edge of the knife-blade,
I put on
the body-armor of black rubber
the absurd flippers
the grave and awkward mask.
I am having to do this
not like Cousteau with his
assiduous team
aboard the sun-flooded schooner
but here alone.

( ... )

~~

Mad Girl's Love Song
Sylvia Plath

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

( ... )

~~

since feeling is first
ee cummings

since feeling is first
who pays any attention
to the syntax of things
will never wholly kiss you;

( ... )

~~

Autumn
Rainer Maria Rilke

The leaves are falling, falling as if from far up,
as if orchards were dying high in space.
Each leaf falls as if it were motioning "no."

( ... )

~~

Tonight I Can Write
Pablo Neruda

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

( ... )

~~

I taste a liquor never brewed
Emily Dickinson

I taste a liquor never brewed--
From Tankards scooped in Pearl--
Not all the vats upon the Rhine
Yield such an Alcohol!

( ... )

~~

Poetry is the art of uniting pleasure with truth.
--Samuel Johnson