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This is a book about hating life and liking it.
To each is their promised land, we all work in search of something...something sublime and yet also indifferent in its bewildering beauty. I remember when I first fell in love, the world at once opened and yet closed, I discovered an inchoate world of spasms, regrets, fears, and a most endless longing. Yet I had been in love before, with words and the regal air of the English line. Like T.S. Eliot speaks in the Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, he says, "Let us go then, you and I." Yes, let's go, and follow those words to a place without pain, a palace for the mind, the loveseat of leisure. Poems can make you feel good, and cherish in each second, something that you read. The highs and lows overwhelm you to a point where you are hardly barren in your personal and profound, happiness.
To each is their promised land, we all work in search of something...something sublime and yet also indifferent in its bewildering beauty. I remember when I first fell in love, the world at once opened and yet closed, I discovered an inchoate world of spasms, regrets, fears, and a most endless longing. Yet I had been in love before, with words and the regal air of the English line. Like T.S. Eliot speaks in the Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, he says, "Let us go then, you and I." Yes, let's go, and follow those words to a place without pain, a palace for the mind, the loveseat of leisure. Poems can make you feel good, and cherish in each second, something that you read. The highs and lows overwhelm you to a point where you are hardly barren in your personal and profound, happiness.
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