A Diamond and a Tether

Sometimes songs just hit you...

Pity, take pity on me
Because I’m not have the man that I should be
Always turning to run
From the people I should not be afraid of
And darling, you should know
That I have fantasies about being alone
It’s like love is a lesson
That I can’t learn
So I make the same mistakes at each familiar turn

I know you can’t hold out forever
Waiting on a diamond and a tether
From a boy who won’t swim
Who won’t dip his toe in
Just to keep you here with him

I’ve got this habit I abhor
When we go out, I’m always watching the door
As if there’s someone I’m going to see
Who could out do the things that you do to me

I know you can’t hold out forever
Waiting on a diamond and a tether
From a boy who won’t fly
Who won’t take to the skies
If he thinks you’re about to say goodbye

Pity, take pity on me
Because I’m not half the man that I should be
And I don’t blame you, you’ve had enough
With all these empty promises and countless bluffs

I know you can’t hold out forever
Waiting on a diamond and a tether
From a boy who won’t jump
When he’s falls in love
He just stands with his toes on the edge
And he waits for it to disappear again

Seeking light and air, and endowed with more strength than man or his works, they soar above the lower deposit to greet one another with branches and beckoning leabes, and to build a city for the birds. E.M. Forster.

I have been reading Oscar Wilde's The Picture of Dorian Gray for the last few weeks. While I am not finished with it, I just wanted to comment on how interesting of a book it is. An artist paints a picture of Dorian and Dorian believes that this portrait alone shows the corruption of his soul, his sins. He wishes to hide the portrait away in a room at the top of his house so that no one ever sees it. "Beneath its purple pall, the face painted on the canvas could grow bestial, sodden, and unclean. What did it matter? No one could see it. He himself would not see it. Why should he watch the hideous corruption of his soul? He kept his youth - that was enough. And, besides, might not his nature grow finer, after all? There was no reasons that the future should be so full of shame."

Accomplished!

I have just completed my first semester of graduate school and I am almost certain that I have two A's. I am now convinced that I can do just about anything.

When the going gets tough, the tough go to graduate school.

Querulously

Driving down airline. Encoooore. I feel the power of control coursing through my veins. I can accomplish. I can make change.

My eyes fill w tears as I hold u here on my bouncing knee. Your tiny little body slouched against my body. My tear washes over your forearm. Your tiny hand clings to the chamber as the gas flows steadily into the tiny gas mask that is elastic around your big baby boy head. You sleep now. Your little moustache hairs tipped with condensation, like frost but underlined with rosy pink.

Its so strange - all at once, I feel as though I'm alone in the world. I have a beautiful son, an amazing fiance and soul mate, fantastic friends, and a loving family. But I'm alone. I live in a house that is not my home with a life I did not plan. "At least I'm not pregnant," I recall telling my mother. Tell God your plans.

(un)natural bridges, (un)safe spaces

While reading for my Ethnography graduate course this evening, I came across some really wonderful quotations and thoughts.

Gloria Anzaldua speaks of natural bridges as created by thousands of years of water and wind erosion and how all bridges, whether literal or figurative, are like thresholds into other realities. They are created and through time, they may be destroyed or preserved. She states that "change is inevitable, no bridge lasts forever" and we must learn to accept this. We must build new bridges which span the vastness between races, genders, ages, etc and in doing so we cannot create new boundaries or binaries as she refers to them. The new bridges can be built upon the foundation sof the old so that we might better understand and deal with the future and the erosion that will come to our newly formed bridges. We, like water, can watch the "fledgling bridges in the making," and that is a beautiful thing.

Sometimes I think that Americans could speak in single syllable abbreviations. An in el? Th ou...

Like a jigsaw falling into place...

When I lay in my bed at night... Its as soft as your pillow... Staring sleepily at the dimly lit wall, I feel at home. The record spins surely behind me, illuminating the traveling photgraphs ironed on the wall. Our first photo together accompanied by our Japanese photo booth. I love the feeling of my legs against the cool silky sheets as the fan whirs gently above me. ...I'm trapped in this body, can't get out... Ill go dream of our future adventures in Japan as our son sleeps peacefully next door, his little arms sprawled out to his sides as his chest heaves rythmically with relief.