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pruittigoe's Journal

15 October
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loved you so i drew these tides of men into my
hands and wrote my will across the sky in stars.
To earn you, Freedom, the seven-pillared worthy
house, that your eyes might be shining for me
When we came
T. E. Lawrence

at least you'll never be a vegetable. even artichokes have hearts.
-amelie poulain

time's funny. when you're a kid, it passes slowly, and next thing you're fifty and your childhood fits into a rusty little box.
-bretodeau, the box man

sand is overrated. its just tiny, little rocks.

clementine: i had you pegged, didn't i?
joel: you had the whole human race pegged.
clementine: probably.
joel: i still thought you were going to save me. even after that.

when, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,
i all alone beweep my outcast state,
and trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
and look upon myself and curse my fate,
wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
featured like him, like him with friends possessed,
desiring this man's art and that man's scope,
with what I most enjoy contented least
yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
haply I think on thee, and then my state,
like to the lark at break of day arising
from sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven's gate
for thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings
that then I scorn to change my state with kings'.

"oh jake," brett said, "we could have had such a damned good time together."...
"yes," i said, "isn't it pretty to think so?"

i am thinking of aurochs and angels, the secret of durable pigments, prophetic sonnets, the refuge of art. and this is the only immortality you and i may share, my lolita.

listen, are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?

it seems only yesterday i used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
if you cut me i could shine.
but now when i fall upon the sidewalks of life,
i skin my knees. i bleed.
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