You have not known what you are.
You have slumbered upon yourself all your life.
Your eyes have been as much as closed most of the time.
What you have done is already in mockeries.

The mockeries are not you.
Underneath them
And within them,
I see you lurk...


-Walt Whitman


24.1.14

of stars and infinities


I HAVE DECIDED that John Green's The Fault in our Stars is fairly far from just an 'okay' read. I find it funny, tragic, and mentally stimulating. Frank as it is honest, it encourages the reader to see things logically, within reason, but not lose the 'heart' aspect of things, and through Gus and Hazel, Green was able to create a third space in which these two realms combine and are reconciled - a tiny infinity which should be experienced by everyone with someone, at least once, in this life so fragile.





23.1.14

when the stars go blue


WHEN YOU LISTEN TO A SONG and it stirs up a memory - a fleeting image at first, and then slowly, like gathering dust, takes on a perceivable form, almost solid really. And then it builds up from within your consciousness then down to your chest, swelling up compressing your heart pushing the walls of your lungs.

 And then you exhale, left in wonder, of the feeling you just felt, beautiful and abstract, that now has become just a part of everything else sucked in time. Yes. That is how I would describe nostalgia.