i had an incredibly unsatisfying conversation just now…so unsatisfying, in fact, that upon signing off i felt a strangely deep sadness. Mesureless melancholy, actually. Sometimes even no expectations are still too many expectations. Painting a prison built on materialistic greed to be a perfect pleasure dome, though its easy to do, makes me sad.
I had to learn memorize this poem in 10th grade and i’ve never forgotten it. I’ve never forgotten it but tonight was the first night in years when i remembered that i hadn’t forgotten it.
2 responses so far ↓
Wem // March 27, 2009 at 12:26 am |
I appreciate what you say about ‘Measureless Melancholy” It happened to me today when I woke up from a particularly life/past related dream that left me completely empty. I am glad that I learned to let these things go or I would have never been able to free myself from my prisons. Though I don’t know exactly what you are talking about, I do know what it is to paint oneself in a corner. The only way out is to get your feet dirty. Anyway, I just liked what you said, and the poem you memorized so long ago.
max // March 31, 2009 at 12:41 pm |
coleridge always makes me think of sean.i spaced your work address,still love me?