OPTIMISM
optimisim is the lovely thoughts that rise from a positive attitude, the light as air feeling you get when things go your way and when things don't and you still just see the sunlight in everyone and everything until your whole world is coming up roses through your rose-colored glasses, as my grandfather used to say. optimism is necessary for survival and that is how humans live in this broken, painful world
RAGGED
these ragged edges of my dress flap in the wind and that’s where you tore me, right down the middle and along my new dress, the one i bought for you, the one i bought to make you notice me. now my smiles are jagged and cliffs are looking friendly. where is ireland? i think i want to go there and commiserate with jane austen and jane eyre and all the janes who lost love like me. where is the sun? i think i’ll follow it.
WHIM
on a whim i chose to fly to rio, where i met the strangest assortment of people. we drank wine that got cheaper through the night, and all i could think while they danced was this. where were their mothers, were they dead in their graves? or still worrying the day away, scolding the silverware and shouting at the curtains to stay in place? where were their fathers, still nursing that old book? or commanding great armies far beyond their sons' and daughters' reaches?
WHIM
on a whim i chose to fly to rio, where i met the strangest assortment of people. we drank wine that got cheaper through the night, and all i could think while they danced was this. where were their mothers, were they dead in their graves? or still worrying the day away, scolding the silverware and shouting at the curtains to stay in place? where were their fathers, still nursing that old book? or commanding great armies far beyond their sons' and daughters' reaches?
EDITION
this edition of my first class magazine will also be the last time i will ever try to make some kind of change in the world. i've been editing and reviewing and changing my whole life and it has come to no avail. this world will never change no matter how many editions of my self that i make. that is all a writer could ask for, change and influence and i will never have it. that is it.
controlling everything is what you do, trying to make the world look like the messed-up craggy cave writings that are carved inside your brain. you color and splash and make the paint fly like birds, you pull strings and cry out with your scratched-out lungs, but still Fate tears away the veil and laughs at you with her eyes while offering scant comfort with her icy cold arms.
this edition of my first class magazine will also be the last time i will ever try to make some kind of change in the world. i've been editing and reviewing and changing my whole life and it has come to no avail. this world will never change no matter how many editions of my self that i make. that is all a writer could ask for, change and influence and i will never have it. that is it.
CONTROLLER
controlling everything is what you do, trying to make the world look like the messed-up craggy cave writings that are carved inside your brain. you color and splash and make the paint fly like birds, you pull strings and cry out with your scratched-out lungs, but still Fate tears away the veil and laughs at you with her eyes while offering scant comfort with her icy cold arms.
