Blood on the tracks

If you see her, say hello, she might be in Tangier
She left here last early spring, is livin' there, I hear
Say for me that I'm all right though things get kind of slow
She might think that I've forgotten her, don't tell her it isn't so.

[Bob Dylan]

Now as much as i love Jeff Buckley, Bob Dylan owns this song.

Spring and Fall

:to a young child

Magaret, are you grieving
Over Goldengrove unleaving?
Leaves, like the things of man, you
With your fresh thoughts care for, can you?
Ah! as the heart grows older
It will come to such sights colder
By and by, nor spare a sigh
Though worlds of wanwood leafmeal lie;
And yet you will weep and know why.
Now no matter, child, the name:
Sorrow's springs are the same.
Nor mouth had, no nor mind, expressed
What the heart heard of, ghost guessed:
It is the blight man was born for,
It is Magaret you mourn for.

-Gerald Manley Hopkins

Spelt from Sybil's Leaves

For earth
her being has unbound, her dapple is at an end, as-
tray or aswarm, all throughter, in throngs;
self in self steeded and pashed- quite
Disremembering, dismembering
all now. Heart you round me right
With: Our evening is over us; our night
whelms, whelms, and will end us.

-Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844-89)

After three weeks of made up words, exclamation marks, and general despair and crisis of faith, I've grown (dare I?) accustomed to Hopkins; I even rather like him, save for complex syntax and impossible to read verses. I even ventre to say that 19th Century is worth the 7.45am wakeup call, the chilly interior of the goddamn room CDTL-SR2 in the middle of nowhere (and is definitely NOT worth the steep ascent into the Chinese library madness in the morning), and the pounding of my heart as i pray that i won't be late for class every Monday/Tuesday.

Perhaps I'll feel different after my presentation on the Alice books.

With your face sketched on it twice

Just before our love got lost you said,
I am as constant as the northern star.
And i said, constantly in the darkness,
where's that at?
If you want me I'll be at the bar..

Well, I could drink a case of you, darling
And i would still be on my feet.

[Joni Mitchell]

I've been having the time of my life- bumming, working, periodically getting out of bed and going to school, eating away, shopping, and spending time.

Is it too much to ask for things to stay this way? Sometimes it feels like I'm toeing an invisible line so thin, that i could step out at any given point and not find my way back in again.


Late night calls, lightning and thunder, graham vanilla crackers, Quentin Tarrantino films, animal sightings, Olympic debates, rooting for track and field events, 1940s black and white stills, computer tutorials, tap tap iPhone games, failure to capture (pictures), rain coming down outside, pink/"en rose", "reflex" wrestling, back-scratcher imprompto movie room tango, dark chocolate gelato, dystopian philosophy, french fries stealing, and above all that, the knowledge of the power of impulse.