February 2012
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mumford and sons, “liar” they told me...
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“I keep thinking about this river somewhere, with the water moving really fast....”
– kazuo ishiguro, never let me go
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when I said “I hate what I’ve become,” I lied. I hated who I was.
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I wished for one more day, to give my love and repay debts, but the morning finds our bodies washed up thirty miles west.
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I’m standing in a room; it’s filled with older folks, and they’re pleading, “baby, listen.” and I scream as loud as anyone, but when asked to make a point I tend to whisper. now highways turn to tidal waves — they’re asking me to export all of your insecurities. but that wind that blows across your room, it’s gonna set the sails, and send me back to...
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“I wanted so badly to lie down next to her on the couch, to wrap my arms around...”
– john green, looking for alaska
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“we are torn between nostalgia for the familiar and an urge for the foreign and...”
– carson mccullers
