I don't pretend to know anything, including the French word for hell. I don't even know if the English word for hell is quite correct.
The future is coming with the sole purpose that I might regret it.
I once had a boyfriend who said, "when we're older and you write my biography...," and I thought "what a vain and presumptuous jerk," and the pathetic thing was how I adored him, and how I still love him in a small way with large reservations.
The hour of five falls like quintuplets from the clock.
I've always dressed modestly because I think of the body as a wound, and clothes as a bandage. They should cover me, and as comfortably as possible.
To live in the moment is a frightful thing. In all the past I never lived in the moment. I was saving those moments for now.
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11 comments:
I like the aphoristic quality of this piece.
I just pulled up in a vintage WWI Red Cross Ambulance. Drag your body in here. smile
I think of the body as a wound, and clothes as a bandage.
Yes!
Love this
Just a thought Sarah. Maybe living in this moment is just paying attention to what is going on. And maybe what is going on in this moment can be you paying attention to remembering past moments...
I love "small way with large reservations."
I'm noshing on this with relish.
Poetic "floaters" in search of a poem to snag on?
I wish them all happy landings (for they deserve as much).
P.S. Would you like to make up my biography? (Ha ha ha ha, etc. ha, et. al. ha ha i.e. ha ha ah... never mind)
Love these!
i had such a day, didn't realize it til i caught myself smushing a wasp in my kitchen sink with my favorite antique gravy pourer.
i'd take that ambulance ride.
"when we're older and you write my biography...,"
i would've probably also called the lad a presumptuous bastard and yet loved him slightly for it!
:)
A man who thinks you would like to write his biography should HIRE you, not sleep with you and write you love letters on his forehead, likely intended only to make you more sympathetic in your portrayal of his pathetic ass.
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