Monday, March 8, 2010

TTW

Maybe I'm dreaming you. Maybe you're dreaming me; maybe we only exist in each other's dreams and every morning when we wake up we forget all about each other.
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I wanted someone to love who would stay: stay and be there, always.
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I go to sleep alone, and wake up alone. I take walks, I work until I'm tired. I watch the wind play with the trash that's been under the snow all winter. Everything seems simple until you think about it.
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Right now, we are here, and nothing can mar our perfection, or steal the joy of this perfect moment.
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Sometimes I'm happy when he's gone, but I'm always happy when he returns.
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Sleep is my lover now, my forgetting, my opiate, my oblivion.
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Time is priceless, but it’s free. You can't own it, but you can use it. You can spend it. But you can't keep it. Once you've lost it, you can never get it back.
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What is more basic than the need to be known? It is the entirety of intimacy, the elixir of love, this knowing.
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And when I was young I didn't understand, but now, I know, how absence can be present, like a damaged nerve, like a dark bird.

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M is for Margaret, who was swept out to sea...