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

Thursday, October 04, 2007
i'm supposed to be writing a paper for modern dance, instead, i was opening up old files, looking for one poem written when i was 16. who on earth goes digging for poetry written at 16? and my folders are so messed up it's all out of control. anyway i found the line i was looking for:

love, i have known every page of you;
we just never had the luck to meet.

it was quite a cruel line. i don't agree with it now, the one you love isn't a pre-conceived notion that you've known every page of.
today i am exhausted, thus i feel more, i am a hundred times more sensitive, edgy, probably funnier on the phone, but ive switched it off, that irritating phone, i'm probably a better writer, but i'm not writing. today i came home and was seized, seriously, seized by the desire to make egg custard. i don't even like egg custard, i just felt, i have to make egg custard, i really have to. so after throwing away 6 eggs from the first failed venture (according to some awful american recipe), i created my own recipe, with soymilk, and skimmed milk, and practically no dairy crap except for 2 tb. of sweetened butter, and i made an egg tart today, it was beautiful, it had grapes in it, it looked like a creme brulee, it was also huge (fine, it was an eggtart pie, with a diameter the length of 3 fists, but in america anything goes). and then i marched around the house demanding all my housemates eat it, how can you not like a housemate who bakes eggtart pies. merve called me from new york today, "hey, i'm walking down the streets, i just wanted to say hi," it was so sweet, so lovely, it was also a lonely thing to do, to call someone you have only met 3 times in your life, to walk you down the street, but i left my phone at home, and i couldn't walk her down the street in the end. in a funny way, i miss her.

Comments:
hey love. you must give me your recipe!!! i keep making muffins, they keep me sane. i've been needing to write, but have had no time. i always love your poetry, whether it be what you wrote at 16 or 20! much love,
hello :) i'll write you soon.


[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]
song
fond
The view from outside the house
for one part of the paper i have to write, i had t...
to all coldplay lovers, announcement!
excerpts from various poems i am working on
was supposed to do my work, instead i ended up loo...
i said, congratulations, i think your baby is beau...
the people in my life drive me crazy and i love them

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