He tried to weigh his soul to see if it was a poet's soul. Melancholy was the dominant note of his temperament, he thought, but it was a melancholy tempered by recurrences of faith and resignation and simple joy. If he could give expression to it in a book of poems perhaps men would listen.
So here I was today, remembering the good old days when I used to spend hours at this place, and I found myself saying: "What the hell - an update is in order!"
How are you, friends? I've missed you - especially the ones among you whom I'd started to consider (and still do) as close friends, whom I can trust and rely upon. I also miss poetry (yeah, Ms Poetry - where's she gone - haven't written more than a couple of lines in ages!), but have still been reading more and more. A great part of my lack of productivity stems precisely from the increased stringency I apply to my work, which is by no means a negative thing.
Med school ex
Shyness is a kink in the soul, a special category, a dimension that opens out into solitude. Moreover, it is an inherent suffering, as if we had two epidermises and the one underneath rebelled and shrank back from life. Of the things that make up a man, this quality, this damaging thing, is a part of the alloy that lays the foundation, in the long run, for the perpetuity of the self.
Reading these words consoled me quite a bit. I hope that you shy and lonely and wonderful people out there feel the same solace I felt on reading them.
(Apologies for the complete lack of activity from my part. Passing through another rough patch, for a change.
I shall not address you as dear, for you are not dear to me. Nor would any excessive empathy from my part do you any good. I know you. Youd just wallow in more self-pity and mistake my empathy for tourniquets for your bloody failures. Nothing is. Nothing justifies the fact that youre twenty and alone and a pompous, self-deceiving loser. That, as you yourself admit,
In twenty years of flesh and ink
you have had ample time to think
yet written nothing
You know your past. You know what your mistakes have been. I could list them for you, you know. All the times you didnt seize the day,