December 2011
Next time it rains
I’m getting on a train to LA with my camera and my iPod. I just want to wander around downtown, observing life and finding beauty.
November 2011
Midnight in Paris, Hemingway
- One of my favorite scenes from Midnight in Paris. Possibly my favorite Woody Allen film because of my love for the writers, artists, and time period. I have tons in common with the main character, but he got to go on an adventure I will always envy!
- Gil: Were you scared?
- Hemingway: Of What?
- Gil: Getting killed.
- Hemingway: You'll never write well if you fear dying. Do you?
- Gil: Yeah I do, I'd say its probably, might be my greatest fear actually.
- Hemingway: Well its something all men before you have done, all men will do.
- Gil: I know, I know –
- Hemingway: Have you ever made love to a truly great woman?
- Gil: Actually my fiancee is a pretty sexy.
- Hemingway: And when you make love to her you feel true and beautiful passion and for at least that moment lose your fear of death?
- Gil: No, that, that doesn't happen.
- Hemingway: I believe love that is true and real creates a respite from death. All cowardice comes from not loving, or not loving well, which is the same thing. And when the man who is brave and true looks death squarely in the face like some rhino hunters I know, or Belmonte who is truly brave, it is because they love with sufficient passion to push death out of their minds until it returns as it does to all men. And then you must make really good love again. Think about it.
How is it that I somehow turn every essay I write into a discussion of the Alchemical process and its symbolic significance?
FrankJavCee: Dreams - Edgar Allen Poe →
frankjavcee.tumblr.com
Oh! that my young life were a lasting dream! My spirit not awakening, till the beam Of an Eternity should bring the morrow. Yes! tho' that long dream were of hopeless sorrow, 'Twere better than the cold reality Of waking life, to him whose heart must be, And hath been still, upon the lovely...
Riddle me this.
How did we get to this place?
You were once my closest friend.
Where did all that trust go,
when did that relationship disappear?
At what point did innocence die?
When did I become an object, a means to an end?
Am I to blame?
I, who loved you through so much.
Stood by you when no one else did.
Had so many dreams for the future.
Our future.
If I had learned to say no
would you still be in my life
or would you have forgotten about me, like you did all the others?
Am I ever going to find the strength to let you go?
