movement and repose

Oh my little heart

aches over people who don’t know how special they are.

How much they are cherished and loved and fought for.

Not the human kind, nope, that crazy kind I’ll never understand or be capable of showing.

WE’RE YOUNG!

WHO CARES!

It’s Monday! I’m going to the Taproom for F*g Cop, Dry Bonnet and Slut River.

I will be tired tomorrow at work.

But I refuse to mope around tonight, turn in early and wake up feeling useless.

I’m going to have fun because I’m young, because I have no responsibilities other than myself and because I can. 

East of Eden

Once again, I have finished a long book that I fell into deeply. The characters, the landscape, the scenes Steinbeck painted for me, the ones I filled out in my imagination, all found a special place in me and they’re permanent. They’re like snapshots, I can go back and put myself there, under the willow with Aron and Abra, in the wagon with Lee and Sam. I can see it like I lived it. This is one thing I love about reading. Those scenes are mine, no one else can see inside my imagination when I read, no one can imagine those like I did. It’s between me and the text, it gives a reader a feeling of ownership.

Anyway, this is one of my favorite lines from a discussion between the Chinese servant Lee and the inventor Sam Hamilton:

“I don’t know where being a servant came into such disrepute. It is the refuge of a philosopher, the food of the lazy, and, properly carried out, it is a position of power, even love. I can’t understand why more intelligent people don’t take it as a career—learn to do it well and reap its benefits […] I don’t know any profession where the field is so cluttered with incompetents and where excellence is so rare.”

Right Away Great Captain

Have you ever seen a man so broken as that one man that you were looking at.

Love, go and save him from the drowning.