T.S. Eliot

and coffeespoons.

Are these the best way to measure out one's life?

I have read Eliot, Pound, Woolf, Joyce, Yeats, Austen, Brontes, Hesse, Hemmingway, Hawthorne, Poe, Plath, Dickenson, Walker, Milton, Shakespeare, Conrad, Ginsburg, Dickens, Fitzgerald, Ibsen, Carter, and the ilk.
I have graduated from college and a prep high school.
I go to coffeehouses, attend poetry readings, and enjoy chess games with discussion of philosophy in the background.

Why am I not happy with this knowledge?
It takes roleplaying in my friend's basement, jamming out to a mix cd, and late night waffle house visits to make me pleased.
It is all about connection. My connections are put on hold, perhaps indefinitely.
How do you make conversation?

Invade

Thoughts seem to be invading my mind.
I am sick of it.
We are supposed to be okay with being alone,
and being solitary for a time is fine.

I know not what to think.
Perhaps I should include you in my memories?
Would you be my amulet?

"Die Wahrheit ist grausam, drum shenck mir einen Traum"

I am a fortune teller
for children and myself.
I make the myths of maybes
in my mind
for you to kill.

And I don't know what I am saying anymore.
And I need your guidance.

Night