Silly Bullshit
The dove catches an upward current. Up, up, up, he flies. As Icarus he melts, transfigured into a malformed crow. Caw, Ca-caw; the sickly cry tells tales passed from non compos mentis, to those I came from, to mine own ears so many years ago. "The lunatic is in my head", they said, and it's true; the woman speaks within me of crows telling tales of funerals to come. I walk alone beneath him, watching from my place; how sharp the point of this remembrance is! Sharp and poignant- clear and true. The dove is gone. Was it ever there? The dove was always amorphus. It was always a spirit ever in flight. The shores I walk seem infinite. This heart of mine beats within my breast a solid and singular thumping. A single thumping. Thumping. Thump.
It's gibberish, I know. This is what happens when the nonsense of James Joyce pervades my thoughts. I'm not nearly as incomprehensible, though.
Twos, twos, twos... and I am always one. One can never be two and in true American style, we all know that more is always better.
BY THE WAY... It now says "Update Captain's Log" instead of "post"... Well done, livejournal, well done.
It's gibberish, I know. This is what happens when the nonsense of James Joyce pervades my thoughts. I'm not nearly as incomprehensible, though.
Twos, twos, twos... and I am always one. One can never be two and in true American style, we all know that more is always better.
BY THE WAY... It now says "Update Captain's Log" instead of "post"... Well done, livejournal, well done.