catastrophe of my personality

"Now I am quietly waiting for
the catastrophe of my personality
to seem beautiful again,
and interesting, and modern.

The country is grey and
brown and white in trees,
snows and skies of laughter
always diminishing, less funny
not just darker, not just grey.

It may be the coldest day
of the year, what does he think of
that? I mean, what do I? And if I do,
perhaps I am myself again." 

(Frank O'Hara, Meditations in an Emergency.)


I sat on the edge of my  bed the other night, gauging my response to the upheaval of my heart. 
I wonder If I will feel more content when life resumes it's easy rhythm. 

For now, I gravitate toward pockets of light, whenever they appear.
I read poems out loud when I dare. 
Listening to these words read by Don Draper is a must. 

(photos snapped on my iphone)


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