1. May your telephone never ring except to speak to you of doubt.
2. May the transitional seasons of spring and fall make you uneasy.
3. May you always prefer to stand in the shadows.
4. May your nights and your days never correspond.
5. May you never learn the true value of heartbreak.
6. May your touch leave behind the faint scent of imperviousness.
7. May all your guests keep looking at the clock.
8. May all the books fall off your shelves, and may they henceforth be forever blank.
9. May watching clouds drift in the sky be as dull to you as the most tedious chore.
10. May you never hear the sound of the breeze on a July evening.
11. May all your compassion dry up.
12. May the ocean never surprise or inspire you.
13. May all your questions be already answered.
14. May your guilty pleasures no longer feel guilty.
15. May all your attempts at sensuality fail.
16. May the sight of a frozen river never make you feel lonely.
17. May the sound of your own breath startle you in its apparent desperation.
18. May your romantic notions of life give way to relentless cynicism.
19. May you never understand the value of art.
20. May you never enjoy walking down a busy city sidewalk in winter.
21. May you always resist temptation.
22. May you hear Chopin's Nocturnes and not be moved.
23. May thoughts of the absurdity of the world keep you from rising in the morning.
24. May the flowers you planted grow wild and unmangeable; may they entangle you and never let you go.
25. May you touch a streetlight some evening and insistantly whisper to yourself "I am here now."
26. May you lose yourself in a language that no one wants to understand.
27. May you be forever trapped in the confines of "what if."
28. May your bus be late. May it never remember the way.
29. May you enjoy watching television. May you have time to watch it.
30. May your confidence leave you in the middle of the night, not even leaving a note.
31. May sunlight never pass through your windows.
32. May no one ever trace a line from your throat to your belly button with desiring fingers.
33. May you lose your umbrella somewhere in the library, and may you never recover it.
34. May the principles of mathematics remind you that time is running out.
35. May the pen become foreign to your hand.
36. May entropy always rule over your kitchen.
37. May the glow of candles never remind you of poetry.
38. May the geography of home suddenly become foreign and unwelcome.
39.May the moon haunt you.
40.May strangers be your guides upon your ascent of the mountain that you keep hidden from view.
41.May a photograph of yourself never look you in the eye.
42.May your voice open upon a new continent but yet keep it frustratingly obscured.
43.May the light never go out at night. May it whisper your name until dawn.
44.May that beer that you're drinking invite you to question your motives.
45.May your record skip, lose sight of the notes' composition, and surrender in disgust.
46.May the sound of a passing train always make you silent and introspective and no fun at parties.
47.May the birds outside your window have a scolding look for you.
48.May the falling rain always forget your name when it greets you in the street.
49.May your nights be sleepless and may the woes of your days be not dispersed by the closing of your eyes, or the softening of light.
50.May the world be your oyster. May your passage be inspiring. May you find joy in abundance. May you always be safe.
10.18.2006
10.14.2006
10.13.2006
night. the chill is asking for a home.
Let's play a game this evening. I'll compose the rules. Only you must listen carefully. Lay your head on the pillow as i explain. Not a battle for conquest, not a contest of wits. We are all on the same side, moving together as a single matter. The silence here is pleasurable, representing a perfect coalescence, not a disassociation. The boundaries of restriction do not exist as we play, there is no monitor on watch tonight. These rules are palatable; no board to upset, no pieces to organize, define, modify: instead we do this to the very air we breathe. We do this with our unified skin--the body that curves like the globe.
I dare not call this a pastime. There is nothing agreeable about the passing of time: this play of ours brings us closer to death, leaves us in a vulnerable posture. No way to cover up our defects--that's where it always gets in. There are dice involved in this game, of course, but none of the players can operate them. We can hear the sound of them falling, scuttling, again and again. This unseen hand throws well. Is there any reason why you should raise your head from your pillow now?
Deviation: who gives a fuck for this game? I know its in the closet, but i'll be damned if i'm gonna pull it out anytime soon. That silence will have its time soon enough. So, come on.
*********
Something's pressing on my walls, painting the edges of my doors in capillary strokes that give way in the breeze, alive. Damn the sunlight, over and over again.
**********
Ending with a:
Curse: May the forest take you, may you be transformed into a deep, green silence.
I dare not call this a pastime. There is nothing agreeable about the passing of time: this play of ours brings us closer to death, leaves us in a vulnerable posture. No way to cover up our defects--that's where it always gets in. There are dice involved in this game, of course, but none of the players can operate them. We can hear the sound of them falling, scuttling, again and again. This unseen hand throws well. Is there any reason why you should raise your head from your pillow now?
Deviation: who gives a fuck for this game? I know its in the closet, but i'll be damned if i'm gonna pull it out anytime soon. That silence will have its time soon enough. So, come on.
*********
Something's pressing on my walls, painting the edges of my doors in capillary strokes that give way in the breeze, alive. Damn the sunlight, over and over again.
**********
Ending with a:
Curse: May the forest take you, may you be transformed into a deep, green silence.
October 13th
accolades and tricks sour notes and ambitions, the slash of the pen, the chamber of the page, the turn of the key. To what extent am I a human being? Can a voice with my name matter, be heard, express the ineffable?
10.03.2006
Early October, noting the changes.
Taking note of how differently the sun sets as it drifts further away every night. Wishing for the whole world to be enclosed in a bank of snow, just for a while, just to get it out of my face, if just a little.
Imagining a white tent, lit brightly from within, overlooking a city that, for once, is peaceful. Warmth eminates from the glow. Taking a photograph, it only looks more magical. Wanting to hear Ginsburg's "Howl"again, to remember what it once felt like.
How wide off the mark am I?
October is the first month denoting a tangable shift in tone. Scenery drops to a lower frequency; you can hear it in the wind. A red leaf is blown against my side, and I savour the touch; I gently drop it into the current. Watching it go: up up. I love how life moves like this.
Sizing it up. Seeing the white glow at the top of the hill that isn't there, that overlooks a city that marks its territory in my imagination.
The sun sets in a way it never has before. I'm getting tired of surprises.
Imagining a white tent, lit brightly from within, overlooking a city that, for once, is peaceful. Warmth eminates from the glow. Taking a photograph, it only looks more magical. Wanting to hear Ginsburg's "Howl"again, to remember what it once felt like.
How wide off the mark am I?
October is the first month denoting a tangable shift in tone. Scenery drops to a lower frequency; you can hear it in the wind. A red leaf is blown against my side, and I savour the touch; I gently drop it into the current. Watching it go: up up. I love how life moves like this.
Sizing it up. Seeing the white glow at the top of the hill that isn't there, that overlooks a city that marks its territory in my imagination.
The sun sets in a way it never has before. I'm getting tired of surprises.
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