(no subject)

[in_white_light]

believe it or not, i was readying a post where i actually said something, "wrote in my journal" and the like. and, of course, how Perfect, the computer ate it. safari froze. what i was trying to say wasn't heretical, it was truthful, so perhaps no one stole it from me. perhaps something just happened at an inopportune time. edit: turns out it did post. but i'm happier with this one, so the old one has unfortunately met its maker (me).

i wrote that i am having a wonderful time here. perhaps "wonderful" wasn't the best word. i have moments of extreme happiness, and moments of extreme stress. in that last state i am not myself. i spend seven hours at the national gallery observing and learning about art. i happen upon mozart concerts at st-martin-in-the-fields. the sky here is thought-provoking; sometimes it appears to hurry off, as if it has somewhere else to be, and sometimes it lingers over the evening sun, as if it knew it were a canvas full of color with hazy gold light as its frame.

i also included an online survey about "what country are you" that others have been posting. in retrospect, in this new chance, i realize i don't need the colorful picture. i came up as the united kingdom.

i also included two rough poems, one of which i edited again before i pasted it here. so here they are, and with them i depart.

1.
Westminster

the tube sways like a lush-
like one I cannot write clearly:

I sit alone amongst others,
restricted by where I sit.

yet a child laughs - it’s his birthday
and he thinks I’m asleep.

-“how old are you?”
the child raises three fingers to a stranger.

2.
silence in the cathedral close

close to
silence in the
labyrinth-

one
worn by others’
shoes.

yet
cloistered words
thunder-

we write,
scribble,
rather,

inspired
by our age,
the sky, the visible
end.