More From the Vault of Writing While a Youth

Discovered in the VWWY, and not un-related to the topic of my previous blog post:

 

"Isn't it funny-of how listening to a certain passage in a piece of music can make you weep for its beauty one day, and another day it seems as though you've somehow missed the passage or as though it were written by an entirely different composer who had no inkling of the magic in the spheres? Is it a matter of the landscape, of the magnificent view one holds at the moment one hears the right chords? Is it an overdose of the wrong or right chemicals being released into the brain at the precise moment the the hammer strikes the anvil in the ear? Is it God's gold finger stroking one's hair one day, and His attention focused on someone else the next day?

 

"On any account, it has happened enough times to me that I feel betrayed to have to live without the experience all of my remaining hours. My whole existence is a yearning for the feeling of the embrace… or a lamentable nostalgia for it…"

 

There is a dysfunction of the human animal
To feel the need to belong,
To search for similarities
And classify ourselves as part
Of what others designate their own
Rejecting all pretenders and protestors
But who am I to grasp some comrades'
Institution stigmatizing the
One whose name is frustratingly unspeakable
What He commands the all to conform

If He has accepted me,
The one,
And revels
In how I create Him
It is beautiful
Not lonely.

 

 

 

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