"And we can't help but notice that we're apart
through time and space we're brutally divided
though i've read in God's Words that they're not even real,
i squint through my prayer and i still can't see you."
-Juliet Wing
Lately, I've forgotten what it is like to be sincere. I wonder if I ever knew what it was. I feel humbled by the sheer impossibility of it, because I feel this or that in a moment and nothing at all in another. I get angry or disappointed in others when they fail to connect with me, yet I push away or ignore just as readily as anyone. It seems to me that the cruelty of borders is our anchor in this world. Nothing is more disorienting than grief for those who die, because I can feel the separtation between myself and them lift and all that is left is a hallowed void where connection to them comes like breath; invisible and primordial. The most sincere moments have existed for me in the recession of drilling grief and when the clarity of this emptiness passes everything seems so allusive and pointless.
I fear what must be done. I fear what must be done. I am afraid of what will never come.
3 comments:
Your right bro, coco rosie is amazing; totally stream of consciousness music
This post reminds me the most of why I love you. It gets to the heart of the sincerity and primordial human connection that is often only grasped during tragedy, when the hour is late.
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