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


us against the world

WHAT MAKES A SONG nostalgic really, even when hearing it for the first time? How it pulls a string of memory deep asleep, among all others that are not yours, all tangled underneath the lyric that seems so strange but subtly talks of ‘something’ that is universal.

No comments: