when my own words fail me…

April 16, 2013

last night, sick with sadness, i climbed into the tub, and opened, still chilly from the doorstep delivery, my most recent purchase from amazon: joan didion’s slouching towards bethlehem. too adrenalizing for my insomniac brain, her word combo-bites and sentence ragouts are my cocaine. yet a short story or two in the bathtub is counselor approved.

as i tried to escape from the horror on t.v. and my computer, smack! right between my eyes, and on the first page of my used, torn up, diet pepsi-stained copy: a 1921 poem from w.b. yeats re-awakening me to the truth that these loathsome events aren’t new, nor are our human reactions. 


“the best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.”

yes and no.

at my core, i’m an optimist.

even though i defriended 4 people yesterday on facebook for their obtuse and ignorant comments/status updates; the bulk of everyone is unified in a positive, supportive, loving way.

boston we love you.

~photo taken by me
  • Yes, yes and agreed. This is beautiful I am with you. Thank you for your words.

  • The quote you highlight under the picture is the one that pulled at me, too.

    • goodniteirene

      crazy that as i was trying to escape from all the madness; this is what i first see….a 1921 poem that pretty much sums up the bullshit.

  • Judy Brower

    My god you're a true Renaissance Man – well, woman! What an amazing (and spot on) reference source!!!

    • goodniteirene

      but what's nuts is i was trying to get a way from all the sadness, and it found me….a 1921 poem used as a preface to essays published in 1968.

  • Big hug!
    Zee – Singapore

  • thank you for sharing this beautiful. i love ya to bits.


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