HOLD ON TIGHT

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT And when we were children, staying at the archduke's, My cousin's, he took me out on a sled, And I was frightened. He said, Marie, Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. In the mountains, there you feel free. I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. ~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot Wednesday, February 14, 2007 dear god. i beg you to help me sleep. posted by dawn # 9:58 AM Comments: and then she shall sleep. i wrote a post for you lar! okay, part of. # posted by Pak : 3:45 PM thank you. it was very sweet. i finally slept. it was good. i was grateful. i wish you love, and perhaps more imp, love and learning that comes from it. :) # posted by Anonymous : 6:01 PM don't you wish sometimes that things were simpler, then love will just be more incandescent and less murky. come online, i need to send you manic street preachers. # posted by Pak : 5:57 PM i dont know actually. im starting to think things are actually simple, its our failure/refusal to comprehend. :) # posted by Anonymous : 10:12 AM hahahahahah i guess so. sometimes, don't think too much ;p # posted by Anonymous : 7:58 PM Post a Comment << Home		[publishing] Publishers Weekly . Dystel & Goderich . New York Center for Independent Publishing . Association of American University Presses . Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators [people] clarisse . nurul . aunty zarina (ummi's bakery) . jeremy . pak . cyril . softblow . karen & kenny (booksactually) . eric . joel . [other loves] digitaljournalist . ballet dictionary . poetshouse . urbanwordnyc [me] dawn, singapore, new york city, ithaca. [yesterday] flowers, and etc and the same black line that was drawn on you, was... a roomful of white gratefulness. Excuse me but can I be you for a whileMy dog won't... i carry myself in myself splitpapayas.com 当年 trainstop (not sure if i got the translation right) the wages of dying is love [archives] January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT

And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot

Wednesday, February 14, 2007

dear god.
i beg you to help me sleep.

posted by dawn # 9:58 AM

Comments:

and then she shall sleep.

i wrote a post for you lar! okay, part of.

# posted by

Pak : 3:45 PM

thank you. it was very sweet.
i finally slept. it was good. i was grateful.

i wish you love, and perhaps more imp, love and learning that comes from it. :)

# posted by

Anonymous : 6:01 PM

don't you wish sometimes that things were simpler, then love will just be more incandescent and less murky.

come online, i need to send you manic street preachers.

# posted by

Pak : 5:57 PM

i dont know actually. im starting to think things are actually simple, its our failure/refusal to comprehend. :)

# posted by

Anonymous : 10:12 AM

hahahahahah i guess so.

sometimes, don't think too much ;p

# posted by

Anonymous : 7:58 PM