admittedly, more for me than you

Apr 10, 2007 20:02

last night, again, the house so vivid, so immediate, so physical, so real i said to myself, "Oh my god, I'm here. I'm back in the house ( Read more... )

house saga, dream

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90north April 11 2007, 11:26:20 UTC
oh freshwater dredge, how i love thee.

lovelovelove.

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sashash April 11 2007, 12:47:03 UTC
awwww... thank you!

(sometimes i find myself an audience member of the book, too, and it's never enough when you have to look at the poem you've written for confirmation of a feeling; it only works with someone else's poem.)

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90north April 11 2007, 12:51:53 UTC
sashash April 11 2007, 13:03:11 UTC
yeah, exactly. or like Steinbeck said:

A writer out of loneliness is trying to communicate like a distant star sending out signals. He isn’t telling or teaching or ordering. Rather he seeks to establish a relationship of meaning, of feeling, of observing. We are lonesome animals. We spend all our lives trying to be less lonesome. One of our ancient methods is to tell a story, begging the listener to say-and to feel-“Yes, that’s the way it is, or at least that’s the way I feel it. You’re not as alone as you thought.”

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