grendel_kin

THE PANTHER

In the Jardin des Plantes, Paris

His vision, from the constantly passing bars,
has grown so weary that it cannot hold
anything else. It seems to him there are
a thousand bars; and behind the bars, no world.

As he paces in cramped circles, over and over,
the movement of his powerful soft strides
is like a ritual dance around a center
in which a mighty will stands paralyzed.

Only at times, the curtain of the pupils
lifts, quietly--. An image enters in,
rushes down through the tensed, arrested muscles,
plunges into the heart and is gone.

-Rainer Maria Rilke


why moan of my figurative incarceration when finer minds have already put the pen to paper and captured my thoughts more eloquently? that would be an exercise of ego, not expression. i should refrain from feeding the ego for i fear it is his fault that the unhappiness fairies have visited me so. it is a terrible thing to think you deserve to be in a better place, to look up and see the kids on the next rung laughing and playing like young gods in a new world of their own and think you deserving of their lot.......it does a disservice to you and to your surroundings. i stop seeing what's around me out of petty melancholy, and soon i stop seeing the world around me out of habit. i'm a blind man walking the path of a petulant child.........and i don't care much if the path bites me.

babble, babble, babble, babble, burp! (a condensed version of the above)

i'll probably keep this up for a while to shame me into sobriety....
**reads the above...twice**
...yep, that should do it.

i'm thinking of taking a trip soon.......where should i go? and why?

let's put some of these fucking things in this....to add some color, that's why!!!!!!