fear

immobilizes us.
it leads to irrational thinking, and selfishness.
it really does.

i have to remind myself this.
it's hard to follow your own advice sometimes.
sometimes emotions overpower logic.

THINK ELY THINK

"there is nothing to fear but fear itself" - FDR

Show improve their moves and let loose
I hear voices, I see smiles to match em
Good times and you can feel it in the fashion
Even though the heat cooks up the action
The streets still got butterflies
Enough kids to catch 'em
Ridin my bike around these lakes man
Feelin like I finally figured out my escape plan
Take it all and the day started off all wrong
Somehow now that hangover is all gone
Ain't nothing like the sound of the leaves
When the breeze penetrates these southside trees
Leanin' up against one, watchin the vibe
Forgettin' all about the stress, thanking god I'm alive

Reality

I got his car towed; he buys me a rose

Some guys are so sweet.
I wonder when they'll stop being that way.

I wonder what will make them that way.

I hope he stays forgiving and never stops giving roses.

does everything really fall into place?

there are really no missing pieces?

if they are, what makes it ok?

in honor of valentine's day

Was it the sun's fault...or icarcus's?

two sides to one coin

i'll come here when i need to vent.
the blog title means a lot to me.
it's a line in the door's song "the end".
i picked the line "and the children went insane; waiting for the summer rain" because i'm extremely restless, and because there are a lot of things I wish would change already.
& sometimes, i just feel like i'm going insane.
Edgar Allen Poe and I should have been friends.


little known fact about me:
I used to read Edgar Allen Poe like an addict in 4th grade.
Of course, I did not have this awesome taste in literature on my own. It was my teacher who was showing me these things. It all started with "the raven".
I remember going to Barnes & Nobles with my dad. We asked a lady for help and I told her I wanted something by Poe. She led us to the children sectioned, and pointed at this colorful, big, illustrated, book. I wanted none of that! I told her I wanted the book that had the most poems in it.
And although I could barely understand any of his work, I loved reading it.
It's funny because I could never read "fall of the house of usher" because the cover on the book looked so scary to me and I was afraid I would get nightmares.
Anyway, I remember I used to like to read about a girl..
and there were bells..
and i pictures mermaids and sea monsters..and love..and destruction..
it was cooool.
i was very into fables, myths, and fantasy as a kid. Especially anything that had to do with the sea. I liked stories about magical fishes and beautiful mermaids,and fishermans, and magical stones and all that.
magic magic magic. maybe that's why i'm so into music now.


anyway, back to poe:
"lord, help my poor soul" were his last words. oh poe...




lanore lanore
nevermore nevermore
http://www.heise.de/ix/raven/Literature/Lore/TheRaven.html
"But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'?

`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'


`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'


`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'


I like these lines the most...

the end is too depressing for me.

it's said that he thinks his spirit won't be lifted again.

i think reaching rock bottom leaves you no where to go, but up.

but of course, the last part of the raven is what makes poe..poe.

maybe poe and i shouldn't be friends after all?

anyway,

enjoy

To Helen - Edgar Allen Poe

I saw thee once - once only - years ago:
I must not say how many - but not many.
It was a July midnight; and from out
A full-orbed moon, that, like thine own soul, soaring,
Sought a precipitate pathway up through heaven,
There fell a silvery-silken veil of light,
With quietude, and sultriness, and slumber,
Upon the upturned faces of a thousand
Roses that grew in an enchanted garden,
Where no wind dared to stir, unless on tiptoe
Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses
That gave out, in return for the love-light,
Their odorous souls in an ecstatic death
Fell on the upturn'd faces of these roses
That smiled and died in this parterre, enchanted
By thee, and by the poetry of thy presence.

Clad all in white, upon a violet bank
I saw thee half reclining; while the moon
Fell on the upturn'd faces of the roses,
And on thine own, upturn'd - alas, in sorrow!

Was it not Fate, that, on this July midnight
Was it not Fate, (whose name is also Sorrow,)
That bade me pause before that garden-gate,
To breathe the incense of those slumbering roses?
No footstep stirred: the hated world an slept,
Save only thee and me. (Oh, Heaven! oh, God!
How my heart beats in coupling those two words!)
Save only thee and me. I paused - I looked
And in an instant all things disappeared.
(Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!)

The pearly lustre of the moon went out:
The mossy banks and the meandering paths,
The happy flowers and the repining trees,
Were seen no more: the very roses' odors
Died in the arms of the adoring airs.
All - all expired save thee - save less than thou:
Save only the divine light in thine eyes
Save but the soul in thine uplifted eyes.
I saw but them - they were the world to me!
I saw but them - saw only them for hours,
Saw only them until the moon went down.
What wild heart-histories seemed to he enwritten
Upon those crystalline, celestial spheres!
How dark a woe, yet how sublime a hope!
How silently serene a sea of pride!
How daring an ambition; yet how deep
How fathomless a capacity for love!

But now, at length, dear Dian sank from sight,
Into a western couch of thunder-cloud;
And thou, a ghost, amid the entombing trees
Didst glide away. Only thine eyes remained;
They would not go - they never yet have gone;
Lighting my lonely pathway home that night,
They have not left me (as my hopes have) since;
They follow me - they lead me through the years.
They are my ministers - yet I their slave.
Their office is to illumine and enkindle
My duty, to be saved by their bright light,
And purified in their electric fire,
And sanctified in their elysian fire.
They fill my soul with Beauty (which is Hope),
And are far up in Heaven - the stars I kneel to
In the sad, silent watches of my night;
While even in the meridian glare of day
I see them still - two sweetly scintillant
Venuses, unextinguished by the sun!