Rippling Winds

Walk on…

illudene — Mon, 10 Mar 2008 00:45:44 +0000

“Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart
And you’ll never walk alone,
You’ll never, ever walk alone.
Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart”

For every day that I am down and tired and worried, remind me that I have friends that stand by me, are ready to joke and laugh and offer words of encouragement, to tell me that I am loved, to smile back, to talk over dinner with, to huddle together to watch a movie together, to jump as zidane scores an absolute cracker of a goal in pes 6, and just to live

It’s not about the essays, or the work, or the work, and never say you’re too busy, because these are one of the rare times that the friendships you make will be the friendships you keep

Interesting times…

illudene — Sun, 02 Mar 2008 02:06:09 +0000

Why couldn’t Villa hold out for ten more seconds?just when i was about to walk away confident that united were going back top, there goes bendtner to score a header. argh.

but that aside, pretty good day today. cleaned up the house and had a really good conversation, which i’ll write more about tomorrow. but that and VinE night pretty much made my day, if you’ll pardon the pun there. was really good seeing the a51 people, just doing mass dances and bringing back memories. and another step back, and another step forward

Refrain.

illudene — Sat, 01 Mar 2008 02:54:57 +0000

“Footfalls echo in the memory
Down the passage which we did not take
Towards the door we never opened
Into the rose-garden. My words echo
Thus, in your mind.
But to what purpose
Disturbing the dust on a bowl of rose-leaves
I do not know.”

- T. S. Eliot, Four Quartets: Burnt Norton

And i’m back, I suppose, for a refrain. But this time, yes, i do intend to write regularly, and actually see whether i can keep this going as i kept the blog i wrote for so long… i suppose it was then that i could lose myself in my own thoughts for hours upon end, scrawl some lines and spraypaint them in glorious gold, just post without abandon and, in that sense, live for myself.

I do miss those days. But we must move forward, somehow.

A refrain. A return to what has gone before, yet with different variations, different points. A sense of tracing the circle, leaving it incomplete, sweeping the brush-stroke, creating. Creating, in its infinite variety. Life. Living. Nostalgia. Beauty. And tomorrow, I will wake up, look upon the day before, and act out its refrain excitedly.