Yu > Recent Status Updates

Dumas has fully trapped me in the “just one more chapter” lie. I meant to read one chapter then somehow emerged 200 pages later cursing everyone, mourning Abbé Faria, and cheering Dantès all the way to the island.

I can't see Odysseus the same way again after Circe

this is a cry for help (i blame eliora)

And night by night, down into solitude,
the heavy earth falls far from every star.

We are all falling. This hand’s falling too–
all have this falling-sickness none withstands.

And yet there’s One whose gently-holding hands
this universal falling can’t fall through.

When we are strongest—who draws back?
Most merry—who falls down laughing?
When we are very bad—what can they do to us?

rereading because I once again hunger for Donna Tartt's writing 😩

Turn back & find the book
I left for us, filled
with all the colors of the sky
forgotten by gravediggers.
Use it. Use it to prove how the stars
were always what we believed
they were: the exit wounds
of every
misfired word.

In fact every poem
might be called "Moment."

One phrase is enough
in the present tense,
the past and even future;

it's enough so that anything
borne on words
begins to rustle, sparkle,
flutter, float,
while seeming
to stay changeless
but with a shifting shadow;

"if anything fits,
it's accidental,
and for one reason only,
that in our dreamings,
in their shadowings and gleamings,
in their multiplings, inconceivablings,
in their haphazardings and widescatterings
at times even a clear-cut meaning
may slip through."

"... and, like a stray dog hungry for affection, I felt some profound shift in allegiance, blood-deep, a sudden, humiliating, eyewatering conviction of this place is good, this person is safe, I can trust him, nobody will hurt me here."