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And I believe in a promised land...
Created on 2003-08-09 10:19:46 (#1242905), last updated 2006-01-24
123 comments received, 194 comments posted
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64 Journal Entries, 0 Tags, 0 Memories, 0 Virtual Gifts, 1 Userpic
| Name: | xyz |
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Nothing ever becomes real till it is experienced...
This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem, and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body
This journal is friends-only, primarily because I value my privacy, and the feeling of being able to say things as I want without the whole world having access is dear to me. If you feel you're missing something, add me and I'll probably add you back.
This is what you shall do: Love the earth and sun and the animals, despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks, stand up for the stupid and crazy, devote your income and labor to others, hate tyrants, argue not concerning God, have patience and indulgence toward the people, take off your hat to nothing known or unknown or to any man or number of men, go freely with powerful uneducated persons and with the young and with the mothers of families, read these leaves in the open air every season of every year of your life, re-examine all you have been told at school or church or in any book, dismiss whatever insults your own soul; and your very flesh shall be a great poem, and have the richest fluency not only in its words but in the silent lines of its lips and face and between the lashes of your eyes and in every motion and joint of your body
This journal is friends-only, primarily because I value my privacy, and the feeling of being able to say things as I want without the whole world having access is dear to me. If you feel you're missing something, add me and I'll probably add you back.
Interests (45):
bears playing violins, big dogs, bob dylan, bruce springsteen, david bowie, ernest hemingway, f scott fitzgerald, flannery o'connor, fountains of wayne, franz kafka, hannah arendt, ira glass, j.d. salinger, james joyce, jeff tweedy, joan didion, literature, nirvana, poems, poetry, radiohead, red sox, robert frost, robert kennedy, sabermetrics, samuel beckett, scrabble, simone weil, strangers, the kafka diet, the who, this american life, thomas merton, tom waits, vladimir nabokov, w b yeats, w.h. auden, walter benjamin, wes anderson, wilco, wilfred owen, william carlos williams, woody allen, woody guthrie, young bob dylan
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