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Faced with the unutterable, words still disintigrate...
And ever new, out of the most quivering stones, music builds her divine house in useless space.
-Rilke
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I am moody.
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[I am not very good at html]
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sometimes i wish... [a blog]
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Wednesday, March 26, 2003
I was once the wine/
and you the wineglass.
I was once alive/
when you held me.
these days i wonder why i bother doing any work. i don't know what i'm doing it for. i have nearly no direction. i thought i had direction once. but i think it left me.
phenomenological analysis? why? for what reason?
butidon'tknowwhatelseiwoulddo
these thoughts hinder my writing.
but i shall return to it now.
5:10 PM
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