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 Tuesday, November 04, 2008 on the verge of a trembling got into an argument last night with j about why voting is important. it's been an ongoing upset between us, the fact that he ruined the chance to cast an absentee ballot, out of stupidity, and my realisation that it's not my right to tell him to vote. and it's new jersey, for christssakes, he says, bluer than blue, he says, i'm sorry but i am not driving 5 hours up and down. don't say sorry to me, i say, it's not my loss, it's your loss. to which he gets really angry and starts railing like an old man at me. living in uber-liberal ithaca, with pockets of republicans beside friends who make hussein their middle name, makes me realise ithaca isn't as blue as it is, and that makes me anxious. if ithaca--and ithaca is as hippy and pro-lgbt and intellectually demanding as it gets in a university town in upstate new york--has a quad full of screaming, "pallin is gorges" fanatics, what about anywhere else that is possibly less blue? on one hand, i am torn between the desire to believe that this country is on the brink, trembling, embracing a new. i want to believe that the face of america will be the face of someone who doesn't believe that america is world, but part of a larger world. on another hand, he says, rather cynically, that change is ultimately rhetorical. so i got angry, which inevitably leads to sexual frustration on my part, my desire to match a face and hand, to touch that face and hand, of that boy who makes me disturbed and yet i love so much. posted by dawn # 7:25 PM Comments: was reading my emails the other day and dawn, are we really not going to see each other till four years later? i might be working in a hotel in new york next september, but nothing's confirmed, everything's a plan but at least there's a plan. # posted by Anonymous : 6:30 AM you are being sentimental, pak. don't be! if you are in ny, ill def come and see you. or you can come up. # posted by dawn : 10:20 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] walking with grace little moment fannie and freddie ithaca consumed by the details of my life now. it mostly ... i have been stressed out. only just secured my sch... fireworks ithaca is gorges browntown it's been pure madness, and i have just moved into... [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

Tuesday, November 04, 2008

on the verge of a trembling

got into an argument last night with j about why voting is important. it's been an ongoing upset between us, the fact that he ruined the chance to cast an absentee ballot, out of stupidity, and my realisation that it's not my right to tell him to vote. and it's new jersey, for christssakes, he says, bluer than blue, he says, i'm sorry but i am not driving 5 hours up and down. don't say sorry to me, i say, it's not my loss, it's your loss. to which he gets really angry and starts railing like an old man at me. living in uber-liberal ithaca, with pockets of republicans beside friends who make hussein their middle name, makes me realise ithaca isn't as blue as it is, and that makes me anxious. if ithaca--and ithaca is as hippy and pro-lgbt and intellectually demanding as it gets in a university town in upstate new york--has a quad full of screaming, "pallin is gorges" fanatics, what about anywhere else that is possibly less blue? on one hand, i am torn between the desire to believe that this country is on the brink, trembling, embracing a new. i want to believe that the face of america will be the face of someone who doesn't believe that america is world, but part of a larger world. on another hand, he says, rather cynically, that change is ultimately rhetorical. so i got angry, which inevitably leads to sexual frustration on my part, my desire to match a face and hand, to touch that face and hand, of that boy who makes me disturbed and yet i love so much.

posted by dawn # 7:25 PM

Comments:

was reading my emails the other day and dawn, are we really not going to see each other till four years later?

i might be working in a hotel in new york next september, but nothing's confirmed, everything's a plan but at least there's a plan.

# posted by

Anonymous : 6:30 AM

you are being sentimental, pak. don't be! if you are in ny, ill def come and see you. or you can come up.

# posted by

dawn : 10:20 PM