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Does Collecting Make You Feel Dirty?
cbertsch
cbertsch
Rêvert
I keep starting letters to you. But every one hurtles off the path to completion. I make it out without serious injury, my clothes snagging as I clamber up the ravine. And then I struggle back home to begin all over. Love is a record we play to death.

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Current Location: 85704

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Comments
gpratt From: gpratt Date: December 10th, 2006 08:42 am (UTC) (LINK TO SPECIFIC ENTRY)

So true.

How I agree.
cbertsch From: cbertsch Date: December 10th, 2006 08:53 am (UTC) (LINK TO SPECIFIC ENTRY)

Re: So true.

At least with LPs we could count on records eventually wearing out!
xmoonbunnyx From: xmoonbunnyx Date: December 10th, 2006 01:48 pm (UTC) (LINK TO SPECIFIC ENTRY)
I was so confused when I read this last night.

I thought it was a comment, and I was like whaaat?

And after a minute or so I was like OH.

I like it, though, especially your last line.
cbertsch From: cbertsch Date: December 10th, 2006 05:38 pm (UTC) (LINK TO SPECIFIC ENTRY)
I can see how thinking it was a comment would be confusing. I like to experiment with pronouns.
From: bobo_amargo Date: December 11th, 2006 09:25 pm (UTC) (LINK TO SPECIFIC ENTRY)

Ta lettre arrive toujours à destination . . .

. . . even though its centrifugal motion keeps impelling you beyond the hold of its surface, making it harder to listen -- for you and for me.

What did Kierkegaard say about repetition, my Knight of Infinity?

Shake the dust from your feet.
5 comments or Leave a comment