the shameless kiss of vanity
no matter where i go, fall manages to track me down. the season of passage, of slow decay, of sleeping unto nostalgia - it cannot be evaded. but in LA it's flatter, not colder, and never as bright as when we used to Fall... a woman now standing where once there was only a girl. and i navigate unmarked terrain with an aplomb i must affect without truly feeling. remember, remember, the upcoming fifth of october? i don't know if i imagined your disinterest tonight; i hope it was a function of my overactive imagination, self-doubt, and paper-related stress.
it's amazingly prescient that this was my favorite cure song when neither of us, i wager, knew how the ending would be. my nostalgia no longer fixes itself on you, though; this strikes me as a testament to the resilience of the human heart. instead i am nostalgic for figurations of my life that always had to have been temporary - a house with no overhead lighting in the living room, bits and pieces of foreign countries, tuesday night retox, winter breaks full of movies and nachos, the highland hannaford.
it is time to channel Arendt and put logos into praxis.
it's amazingly prescient that this was my favorite cure song when neither of us, i wager, knew how the ending would be. my nostalgia no longer fixes itself on you, though; this strikes me as a testament to the resilience of the human heart. instead i am nostalgic for figurations of my life that always had to have been temporary - a house with no overhead lighting in the living room, bits and pieces of foreign countries, tuesday night retox, winter breaks full of movies and nachos, the highland hannaford.
it is time to channel Arendt and put logos into praxis.