my feet are sore. i danced a lot tonight. weddings these days, i'm noticing, are more enjoyable. maybe it is because i am slowly becoming less embarrassed of my heart and the fact that it is deeply moved by romance. i've thought recently about giving the book Captivating another shot. i was too much of a snob when a friend first gave me the book. i don't have time for all this romantic, dating, heart of a woman, princess @*^%...i mean with all of the works of lewis and edwards i still have yet to read. funny, i am noticing more and more similarities between the girl i used to turn my nose up at (and still sometimes do) and err...myself.
i am in the habit of assuming my desires to be of a nobler sort if i feel them to be unconventional. there exists a yearning to be set apart and found uncommon and consequently desired all the more. and i must admit that even in this confession there is the wish to be set apart due to my...daring honesty.
so. maybe i am not able to find the words and make them dance and burn as rilke did. maybe i don't have the diligence of michelangelo or the vibrant imagination of tolkien. maybe i do tend to think about a kiss on the beach at sunset as much as i think about belief an age of skepticism or if there could be a second fall in the new heavens and new earth.
maybe what people think of me is not so important.
2 comments:
it's interesting- the romantic kiss on the beach at sunset is something rilke would write about and degas would paint.
these things are deep and poetic:
a suburban neighborhood
jean shorts
old, unfashionable clothes
GAP
starbucks coffee
commercial or non-commercial
en vogue or faux pas,
the romantic and poetic lies behind the curtain
of Everything.
that's what i've learned- it's all the same, if you mix all trends, fashions, high and low thought. what i could be thinking of today as an Intellectual was probably what the common Greek thought of everyday.
all of this to say, i understand.
i liking waxing poetic about a good cup of hot tea, with Eliot in hand, like a patient etherized upon a table, but sometimes i just want to not care what people see me doing. sometimes i just want a Coke.
s. wells, you are an extraordinary poem and i wonder if i could ever express how much i appreciate you. your words remind me that it's okay to stop holding my breath.
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