There are days, and there are days... by runfromthelight, literature
Literature
There are days, and there are days...
There are days
when I can feel the despair
scratching
at the inside of my ribs.
When I stare
at the computer screen,
homesick and forlorn.
When I drink too much wine
and walk,
dry-mouthed and overburdened
through the streets
of unfamiliar cities.
There are days that last for centuries.
But
at the end
of such days
there are friends,
blueberries
and a bed offered with no thought of what should be given in return.
There are days when I forget
And
there are days when I remember
that
I will not drown without you.
I know the words to this song.
(It's just as pretty solo, but I'm hoping we'll duet.)
Mistaken attitudes toward immortality by runfromthelight, literature
Literature
Mistaken attitudes toward immortality
On my first reading of ‘Mistaken attitudes toward death’, I found much of Lamont’s perspective on the issue of mortality to be deeply troubling, though the source of my disconcertion was somehow imperceptible. Naturally, as a philosopher, this was not a state I could bear for any length of time! The purpose of this essay, then, is to subject Lamont’s ideas to a little more scrutiny, locate the problematic elements and then to consider whether my own view of death can achieve any clearer articulation in light of these issues.
I
The first attitude which Lamont criticises is that expressed by Walter Kaufmann in his book
Winter is this walk home at 2am -
beneath umbrella-skeleton trees,
reaching for the moon in vain.
It is those snowflakes finding their perilous peace
in your eyelashes.
It is the weight of the words which
stick
in my throat,
longing to be
whispered
into your beloved ear,
forgiven.
On days like this,
when the first snow falls like torn lace
and the sun is
barely
a whisper of warmth
above the clouds,
I hear the call of forfeit possibilities
and
count the ways
I wish that I had loved you better;
longing for another lost love
with whom I could have made
all my
mistakes.
Take my hand, love, for a while we'll walk.
To trip, to fall, of that you must take care
For, when you fall, it's certain you'll fall hard.
But I'll be there to pick you up, always,
Though the trials that we'll face may well be endless.
I'll look for you, and find you, here. At dusk.
We'll revel in the chill kisses of dusk
And sing old songs we have learned as we walk.
We'll find our curiosity is endless
And keep learning as long as we still care.
We'll make our promises that last for 'always'
And break them, though the breaking will be hard.
At first we'll think that walking is not hard
And laugh at whispered terror in the dusk.
There are days, and there are days... by runfromthelight, literature
Literature
There are days, and there are days...
There are days
when I can feel the despair
scratching
at the inside of my ribs.
When I stare
at the computer screen,
homesick and forlorn.
When I drink too much wine
and walk,
dry-mouthed and overburdened
through the streets
of unfamiliar cities.
There are days that last for centuries.
But
at the end
of such days
there are friends,
blueberries
and a bed offered with no thought of what should be given in return.
There are days when I forget
And
there are days when I remember
that
I will not drown without you.
I know the words to this song.
(It's just as pretty solo, but I'm hoping we'll duet.)
Winter is this walk home at 2am -
beneath umbrella-skeleton trees,
reaching for the moon in vain.
It is those snowflakes finding their perilous peace
in your eyelashes.
It is the weight of the words which
stick
in my throat,
longing to be
whispered
into your beloved ear,
forgiven.
On days like this,
when the first snow falls like torn lace
and the sun is
barely
a whisper of warmth
above the clouds,
I hear the call of forfeit possibilities
and
count the ways
I wish that I had loved you better;
longing for another lost love
with whom I could have made
all my
mistakes.
Remembrance and Forgetting by runfromthelight, literature
Literature
Remembrance and Forgetting
INT. Bedroom of a small Boston apartment, late afternoon.
The room is cold and dingy, the ceiling cracked, wallpaper peeling. Street sounds can be heard from outside the window, though the latch is closed. Light filters weakly through the partly drawn curtains.
An old man, MICHAEL, is sitting in the bed, popped up on stained pillows against the bed frame. The sheets look as though they have not been changed in weeks. His eyes are half closed and his breathing laboured but his hands twitch nervously, gathering handfuls of the cover before releasing, as if forcing himself to relax. He shivers in a ratty robe, fraying at the elbows. There is a
In another world
you named me songbird,
and traced my shoulder blades searching for my missing wings.
I long for those words
to kiss my eyes again,
to feel your aimed affection swelling within me
like heat in the pit of my stomach.
Today I implored Hokusai for the taste of that lost love,
furtive spy,
cursing myself for the invasion
This is the mark.
This is where our paths divide.
I will not spurn the sun
nor shrink dismayed and daunted
from the day.
I will go out into the night air
and breathe the sweetness of the evening;
lime, maple and cedar.
I will look up to the assonant moon,
robed in the haze of the buzzing, oblivious city;
work, food and sleep.
I will know myself: an ivory tower,
unassailable and isolate,
in the midst of a forbidding, fretful sea.
I will spread my wings,
raise my eyes
and wish upon the first star
with hope high in my heart.
...had such a clear up today. Deleted loads of old rubbish, caught some typos, moved irrelevant things to scraps and changed almost all of my artist's comments.
Nearly finished the Playlist challenge after
*cough* two years *cough*.
Still to do:
6. Killing Me
15. A Boy Brushed Red... Living In Black And White...
17. Poetic Tragedy
19. Starfuckers, Inc.
25. This Is The New Shit
35. Beautiful
38. Spit
39. Because I Want You
40. Boys Don't Cry
I will get there.
1. Broken Promise
2. Dead Inside
3. Tourniquet
4. Nothing's Wrong
5. Taste In Men
6. Killing Me
7. Time To Dance
8. Maybe Memories
9. Early Sunsets Over Monroeville
10. Here Comes The Rain Again
11. Chasing Cars
12. Citizen Erased
13. Purity
14. To The End
15. A Boy Brushed Red... Living In Black And White...
16. She Loves Me Not
17. Poetic Tragedy
18. The Baying Of The Hounds
19. Starfuckers, Inc.
20. Serenade
21. Freak On A Leash
22. Burning Years
23. The Rich Man
24. Loveless
25. This Is The New Shit
26. The Latest Plague
27. Broken
28. Dying In Your Arms
29. Paper Wings
30. Where Is My Mind?
31. Ascension Of
Please make sure to copy whole journal (list and rules below this point)
the point of this challenge is to test and improve your skill as an artist. After 100 pics who wouldn’t be better. Please forgive me if this in any way excludes you from taking the challenge.
The rules
1.) Make 100 pics each pic having a theme listed below. Each pic should have ONE and only ONE theme to it, for it to count.
2.) No time limit so have fun
3.) The main picture should be drawn but not limited to. for all fair purposes, people are allowed to use their paint programs and photo shop to create the pic.
3a.) pics should be of own artistic ability. You