we shake this incense from our hair;

December 21st, 2004 · 5 comments

lately, i have been struggling with the parts of me that are furtive & crooked & sometimes painfully incapable. i worry all the time that i am losing things. i stare at mirrors. i touch the walls with impermanent hands.

tonight, i have no voice.


elegant and dark in its appearance and exquisite in its story. The setting is fairytale 19th century; the fable is sad and beautiful. {RUB}
Mood: (aphonic)
Musique: dark&smoky.

{ 5 Responses to we shake this incense from our hair; }

  • wary says:

    lately, i have been struggling with the parts of me that are furtive & crooked & sometimes painfully incapable.

    oh my, oh my, you’ve just put into words something i kept trying to say.

  • jkingfish says:

    doesn’t it feel, a lot of the time, that you are peeling off like an old sticker. I struggle with this constantly. I feel my adhesive growing dry and I measure the surface area of my tangibility daily.

    I bet you count hours too

  • …furtive & crooked & sometimes painfully incapable.
    Oh, darling, I have been battling with these inner demons as well. My dreams have embraced me with images of Germany in the wintertime, Italian seashores and Brazilian candlemakers, European accents and centuries of timeless history steeped in beautiful places. I fear a stale, immobile presence. It stretches around me, thickening my fear of never exploring, never embracing, never living.

    It’s amazing the things I know I could accomplish if money wasn’t such an issue. Damned, evil coin pieces… this courtship with capitalism is not so much a love affair as it is a forced intercourse. :\

    Also. I’ll be sending a small bit of something your way soon, but it might reach you after Christmas because I awoke to snow (!!) this morning. Although the landscape is breathtaking, it doesn’t make for very good travel to the post office and beyond. But rest assured, you will receive it. :)


  • subtexts says:

    you will be there, and you will fit, in that inexplicable, i’ve always belonged way.

    we are all impermanent in some way or another. isn’t that beautiful, though?

    all of my holidays i’ve just been taking pictures of the sea, waiting to come home & write in seashores for the first time.

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