tags: T.S. Eliot

2000

August

2000 Aug 22
Weird Shit Floating around in My Mind

I've got to do better than this, at least fifteen minutes a day, maybe.

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December

2000 Dec 21
Sunny California

A pleasant respite. I’ve forgotten about unicorns. Bill Gates can suck my…

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2001

April

2001 Apr 1
Happy New Year

April is the cruelest month. Spring is teasing me. I hate how desolate the Midwest is, although I wouldn’t mind actually living in Chicago. I finally found a Playstation 2. I had a lot of clever things to say, but I can’t get them to come out.

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July

2001 Jul 13
City of Angels

An excursus on American cities.

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2002

February

2002 Feb 25
The Cruelest Month?

“You’ve got to get yourself together. You’ve got stuck in a moment and now you can’t get out of it.”

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November

2002 Nov 16
Wound Check - Post Op Day 1

Recurrent acute mental emesis (another brain barf)

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2003

May

2003 May 16
The Matrix Reloaded — Unreal City (SPOILERS!)

The Prophecy shall be fulfilled. Every city is a manifestation of Unreal City—Babylon, Rome, London, New York, Chicago, L.A., everywhere and nowhere.

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June

2003 Jun 19
This is the Way the World Ends

Happiness continues to elude our hapless hero. Perhaps all I can really hope for is “Shantih, shantih, shantih.”

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2007

April

2007 Apr 17
april is the cruelest month

I worry that my capacity to empathize with sadness and tragedy has been destroyed. Most the time at work, I’m forced to put on a mien of detachment and objectivity. If I took everything bad that happens at work to heart, I’m pretty sure I would’ve quit a long time ago. Or I’d have committed suicide.

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October

2007 Oct 3
active stillness revisited

Oh her blog, S. (not S) posts this quote from T.S. Eliot:

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2010

April

2010 Apr 6
a dearth of creativity

For some reason, I started looking back at my blog posts from exactly 3 years ago and I just realized that somehow, despite working 80 hours weeks which included 30-hour calls every four days and some rather intensely harrowing experiences, I somehow managed to write a lot. I honestly don't know how I did it. Now that I have more free time, I can't seem to put two words together into a coherent thought.

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2014

July

2014 Jul 1
dreaming of morning dew on rose petals

April was the cruelest month
long buried memories disinterred
like a knife wound to the chest
bittersweetness, chances unfulfilled
time lost to sorrow and despair
and yet there was no chance
time transforms chance to inevitability
all hope is lost
Yet I remain

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2014 Jul 29
summer waning

The end of days
of summer waning
(the wheel turns and turns)
hoping for all manner of impossible things
hanging suspended at 30,000 feet in the sky
and chasing the fleeting sunlight

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