Quote of the Day - Part Two:

"The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock" - T.S. Elliot


S’io credesse che mia risposta fosse
A persona che mai tornasse al mondo,
Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.
Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondo
Non torno vivo alcun, s’i’odo il vero,
Senza tema d’infamia ti rispondo.


LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats 5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question … 10
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.

In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.

The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, 15
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, 20
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.

And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; 25
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate; 30
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.

In the room the women come and go 35
Talking of Michelangelo.

And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair— 40
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare 45
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.

For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, 50
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?

And I have known the eyes already, known them all— 55
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways? 60
And how should I presume?

And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress 65
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
And should I then presume?
And how should I begin?
. . . . .
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets 70
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…

I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
. . . . .
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! 75
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? 80
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, 85
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while, 90
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”— 95
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while, 100
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen: 105
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”
. . . . . 110
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use, 115
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.

I grow old … I grow old … 120
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.

Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.

I do not think that they will sing to me. 125

I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown 130
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

Quote of the Day:

"Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go."
-T.S. Elliot

Despite my increasing pain my hope has not been murdered yet.
Yeah...you know what of and what for...
It's not the end, I do not know what is beginning...but this is not the end...

All encompassing darkness.

"Because I'm already gone
Felt that way all along
Closer to you every day
I didn't want it that much anyway"

Ah...the unending joys of abdominal pain mixed with no sleep.

Could my life get much better?

I think no.

Quote of the Day:

"The unexamined life is not worth living."
-Socrates

Feeling...quite weak and shaky...nothing too bad...just a bad day.
Things could be worse...thankfully it's looking up.
Bright lights ahead, hope eternal...even when hurting...even in pain..and being so distant and away...

Would anyone be surprised, or really care, that I'm in a lot of pain?

Worse...and...worse...

God I hate pain.
Please?
Please help me.
Just make it stop.
God please.

Why didn't someone tell me about the next Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy book being out?

http://www.amazon.com/Another-Thing-Eoin-Colfer

Who fell down on the job with that one?

I would sleep if I could
but then that would be giving,
giving in and giving up
and to what end?

"not just a feeling
it's the reason
we know a line is crooked
`cause we know what's straight
that little voice inside

as I lay me down
I confess
I'm a fool for you
no more, no less

and in this world turning gray
strikes a chord when i say
there is black
there is white
there is wrong
and there is right"

Peculiar oh so peculiar.

Quote of the Day, the Fourth:

"I imagine that right now, you're feeling a bit like Alice. Hmm? Tumbling down the rabbit hole? "
-Morpheus, 'The Matrix'

A Post Marked Letter

Someday I hope I can bring this,
someday I hope to give,
someday I hope to return
and have it not miss.

I want to give you
these things,
I want you to have
so much,
but it's not my place.

Everyone wants security,
the trappings of divine love
and the freedom from being guilty
and how I can give it
I know not.

I just know my words are weak
and my rhymes are fleeting
at this very late hour.
But there is sincerity
lining my hope.

I feel the sunrise
and know the morning
will be rushing all to soon
and what of the night?
There is a sacredness,
this divine covering
oft times missed at this hour,
witching and bewitching it is.

"If God Will Send His Angels" - U2

That was an unexpected, albeit way too short, blessing from above just now.
Heh I know I try too hard and it may seem silly...but sometimes it is nice to just see that now...if that makes sense. =)

"Hold Me Jesus" - Rich Mullins

Quote of the Day - Part Three:

"I grew up hearing everyone tell me 'God loves you'. I would say big deal, God loves everybody. That don't make me special! That just proves that God ain't got no taste. And, I don't think He does. Thank God! Because He ...takes the junk of our lives and makes the most beautiful art."
-Rich Mullins

Quote of the Day - Part Two:

"I am deeply distressed by what I only can call in our Christian culture the idolatry of the Scriptures. For many Christians, the Bible is not a pointer to God but God himself... God cannot be confined within the covers of a leather-bound book. I develop a nasty rash around people who speak as if mere scrutiny of its pages will reveal precisely how God thinks and precisely what God wants."
-Brennan Manning

Quote of the Day:

"The Bible is not a book for the faint of heart--it is a book full of all the greed and glory and violence and tenderness and sex and betrayal that befits mankind. It is not the collection of pretty little anecdotes mouthed by pious little church mice--it does not so much nibble at our shoe leather as it cuts to the heart and splits the marrow from the bone. It does not give us answers fitted to our small-minded questions, but truth that goes beyond what we even know to ask."
-Rich Mullins

It feels like every time I get my mind off of...and not thinking of...

Everything comes rushing back at once.
As much as there can be with so little.
I think I just need to find a way to keep my mind engaged and not worrying about the future, just taking care of everything I can as I can.

It's as silly as infatuation is...

Being lost in me as I'm lost in...

I can't give a concise disposition because of..

So much and so little at the same time.

Aggravating inconsistencies as I wander about wondering and being curious about what is to come, in this and all there is to see.

Charlie Brown...drawn Manga style? o_O

Quite an interesting take on one my most beloved cartoon strips:

http://shuroki.com/2007/07/22/charlie-brown-manga-style/

Note: I just realized that the post for those drawings was done on my twenty-first birthday...strange.