I shall read…

for what else to do now?


This mournful and restless sound was a fit accompaniment to my meditations.


— Joseph Conrad, Lord Jim

Oh 2 be b’side the c-side with u write now! Can you hear it, can you hear me, can you hear the sonorous, no searing, sounds of the redolent, no relentless, sea.

Read The NYT Book review

Download a PDF copy here:
BooksNYT Book Review (Jan. 2020).

There is an ocean of silence between us. . . and I am drowning in it.
“No one compares to you, but there’s no you, except in my dreams tonight.”
— Lana Del Rey


Though lovers be lost, love shall not /
And death shall have no dominion.


— Dylan Thomas

There is an ocean of silence between us. . . and I am drowning in it 013
“It hurts to breathe. It hurts to live. I hate him, yet I do not think I can exist without him.”
― Charlotte Featherstone


There is an ocean of silence between us… and I am drowning in it.


— Ranata Suzuki

There is an ocean of silence between us. . . and I am drowning in it 012
“You can love someone so much… But you can never love people as much as you can miss them.”
― John Green


Ever has it been that love knows not its own depth until the hour of separation.


— Kahlil Gibran

There is an ocean of silence between us. . . and I am drowning in it 010
“When the sun has set, no candle can replace it.”
― George R. Martin


It’s painful, loving someone from afar /
Watching them – from the outside.


— Ranata Suzuki


“Your smile and your laughter lit my whole world.”

Tittle-Tattle

Telltale Tit /
Your tongue shall be slit
• • •

There was a time when I would walk & talk
the veneration was captivating
in those halcyon days, I’d silk and milk
the politicking was everything
 
Statecraft through court intrigue (my modes were old)
Machiavelli gave the manuscript
my words writ power plays (and paid me gold)
yet Cromwell showed, class can never be stripped
 
Tittle-Tattle, the cut of the devil
— time and tome tell us the weak will relent
Telltale Tit, most will be nowt but evil
— there ain’t no doubt that the meek will repent
 
Not I, Adversity… I’ll catch stars;
for you, my dearest, I’ll spar yet with Mars.


Thomas Cromwell
Thomas Cromwell
By Hans Holbein (1533)
* See too, p. 88 of Hilary Mantel’s “Bring Up the Bodies” (2012).

• • • and all the dogs in the town
/ Shall each be fed a little bit

The Fear Factor

a letter, unread:

Dear Jamela,

There’s one thing I know for sure, there’s nothing I fear more than losing you.

I’ve just woken up from a nightmare (covered in a cold sweat etc.). In the nightmare (I remember it vividly because I woke with a jolt), I had done something to annoy you and, as a consequence, you had blocked me. I was desperately trying to contact you, but each time I did you’d read what I had to say then blocked that communication channel. Finally, every avenue was blocked so I kept on going to your house (this was a dream and your house and family were here in Holland). Each time I’d go to your house (which was a different one each time) a member of your family would tell me you no longer lived there but I could hear you dancing, or singing, or talking or even playing tennis… I kept trying to get into these different houses to see you, to apologise, to explain myself but on each occasion I found myself trapped in a bathroom, a bathroom from my childhood, a bathroom with carpet on the floor; a bathroom that kept turning into a padded cell of a lunatic asylum.

Anyway, that was a nightmare, nothing more — I’m remembering now that book, Why we Dream. I don’t believe that nightmares are anything other than our brains sorting out and processing information. Nevertheless, as that book kind of suggests, we can somehow take guidance from these dreams/nightmares and that I plan to do. I will be thankful for every day I have you with me as a soulmate, I will work hard to understand each and every one of your personality traits in order for me to treat you right. You have given me so much, you continue to give me so much and, to me, you are the elixir of life; the epitome of my happiness; ‘the’ reason to celebrate and cherish being alive.

It was just a dream, just a dream.

Yours in life & in love,
James

Heaven — is with you

Heaven
The Kiss
by Gustav Klimt (1908)

“The mind is a universe and can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”
― John Milton

Hell — is without

Hell
The Scream
by Edvard Munch (1893)

“Life moves very fast. It rushes from Heaven to Hell in a matter of seconds.”
― Paulo Coelho


p.s.
Welcome to the twenties! They say to be happy, inter alia, we should (a) go to bed early and (b) embrace boredom. I can see the logic behind such advice but am I likely to follow it? I think not. I am a hedonistic human being and this is something that I cannot escape. Oh! The (futile & fruitless) Pursuit of Happiness.

The book mentioned — Why We Dream: The Transformative Power of Our Nightly Journey — is written by Alice Robb and is reviewed in this post: Dream on

Dream

on the vexing subject of anxiety
Understand your anxieties
Try keeping a diary of what you are doing and how you feel at different times to help identify what’s affecting you and what you are best able to take action on.
on the vexing subject of anxiety
Get to grips with your anxieties
When you’re feeling anxious, it can help to use a problem-solving technique to identify some solutions (e.g., writing them down on paper), this can make the challenges you’re facing feel more manageable.
on the vexing subject of anxiety
Shift your focus
Some people find relaxation, mindfulness or breathing exercises helpful because they can reduce tension and focus one’s awareness on the present.

Elixir
A magical or medicinal potion. — “The seller of snake oil promised Oliver an elixir guaranteed to induce love.”


Epitome
A person or thing that is a perfect example of a particular quality or type. — “He looked the epitome of elegance and good taste.”


Hedonistic
[adjective]
To be engaged in the pursuit of pleasure; sensuous and self-indulgent. — “Julie dreamed of a hedonistic existence of sex, drugs, and hardcore house music but in reality moped around in her dressing gown in her suburban living room.”


Lunatic asylum
A psychiatric hospital.


Padded cell
A room in a psychiatric hospital with padding on the walls to prevent violent patients from injuring themselves.

Soul Meets Soul on Lovers’ Lips

  The pain deep within sears with fiery burn
   A persistent pain, to which there’s no gain
   For you, you see, there’s nowhere I’ll not go
  So I’ll play this hand, for I can’t forego.
   There’s no depth too low, nor deprivation
   There’s no face too shear, or sunken station
   There’s no time too long, this is pure passion
   There’s no thing too far, for you’re my heaven.
   Two full moons have come and gone since you’ve gone
   The Whys for your departure, are now clear
   The guilt trips were cruel, my dear desert pearl
  The bathroom floor’s no place for a treasure.
   Oh how I now know the errors I’ve made; I know now too that true love does not fade.

Past & Present
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.

Oh let the hopeless amongst us bow to the Latter Day Romantics . . . . . .

John Keats lived to 25

P. B. Shelley lived to 30

Lord Byron lived to 36

. . . . . . . we can revise the tires but let us not replace the wheels; far better to pay yesteryear some degree of heed. But ya Jay Bae don’t here get me wrong, we do too need to be creative and inventive. It is true indeed that we can’t stay stuck perpetually in past’s lust but, we need to read a bit about it before we can gainfully dig for and articulate convincingly pleasures new.

A Master Cannot Serve Two Mistresses

✍🏻 twenny.4..7

i think *only* of YOU

  It is non-stop my dear mate
  It’s ridiculous… i know
  —
   You’ve long gone, i know
   You’ve moved on, i know
  —
   my words no longer enchant you; my kisses no longer entrance you
  —
   i’m evidently obsessive,
   purgatory’s primary pariah,
   cast adrift yet, inescapably chained.


✍🏻 I miss you

way, ‘way’ beyond belief

Revenge
bloodied knuckles & a cowardly lover’s letter, expressing his departing…

Limitless Infinity

   6 I look but I don’t see
  I hear but don’t listen

  I’ve never felt these deprivations
  I have never known such emotions

  I touch but I don’t feel
  I eat but it’s tasteless

  I’m literally not functioning
  I am but a dead human walking

  I breathe scentless flowers
  I yearn to sense your soul

  I’d give everything to be with you
  I would do anything to be yours 9

^∞