collecting my thoughts

How astonishing it is that language can almost mean,
and frightening that it does not quite. Love, we say,
God, we say, Rome and Michiko, we write, and the words
get it all wrong.

-- Jack Gilbert, from "The Forgotten Dialect Of The Heart"

---

"Have you chosen a college yet?"

No. The answer is no.

"Narrowed it down?"

To two. They're both in Boston.

"Well of course _________, right?"

Well if it were that easy, I wouldn't still be waffling.

---

What is more interesting is the _________. Some people have very strong feelings for or against either of the two contending schools, is all. I'm tired. I want to keep my grades, and I don't want to keep my grades. I want graduation to be over with, but I still need to fulfill some requirements. I just want to sleep in, work part time, watch movies, be lazy. Read some books here and there.

I leave Thursday morning at 5 AM.

I heard there was a secret chord

And you as well must die, belovèd dust,
And all your beauty stand you in no stead,
This flawless, vital hand, this perfect head,
This body of flame and steel, before the gust
Of Death, or under his autumnal frost,
Shall be as any leaf, be no less dead
Than the first leaf that fall,---this wonder fled.
Altered, estranged, disintegrated, lost.
Nor shall my love avail you in your hour.
In spite of all my love, you will arise
Upon that day and wander down the air
Obscurely as the unattended flower,
It mattering not how beautiful you were,
Or how beloved above all else that dies.

-Edna St. Vincent Millay