No, forgive me.

If you are not living,
if you, beloved, my love
if you have died 
all the leaves will fall on my breast,
it will rain upon my soul night and day,
the snow will burn my heart,
I shall walk with cold and fire and death and snow,
my feet will want to march toward where you sleep,
I shall go on living,
because you wanted me to be, above all things,
and, love, because you know that I am not just one man
but all men.

-Pablo Neruda, The Captain’s Verses 

Just Out of My Reach

I have been kept occupied lately, more so than usual and summer isn’t at all like summer should be. The weather has kept in step with me, as it’s been raining daily; I wish I could get lost in the clouds.

Oftentimes I want to throw my hands up in defeat, but it wouldn’t be like me; challenges shape us and I want to stand tall. I must say, I am coming to know myself better, which is rather strange if you think about it considering I’ve known myself for a good 22 years now (I keep forgetting I am 22, although it’s been almost 3 months since my birthday). Does one ever stop learning about who who one is? No, I think not. I think there should not be a time we do to not delve within because if we don’t truly know ourselves then how can there be deep meaning to life? Settling should hardly be an option and finding fault in one’s own character is a humble pursuit more people should engage in.

This is starting to sound awful cheesy, isn’t it? It’s what 19th century novels and Spanish poetry do to a person. I’ve become pathetic in the most romantic ways. Or perhaps simply pathetic. Kristen would likely call me whimsical. Now you see why I tend to stick to superficial topics for my posts ;)

“let me show you my bones
the ones i had discreetly hidden from you
now they’re shaking from the cold
i’m lonely says the naked heart”

I want to embroider more random things on my clothes…