The Underbelly of my Incoherent Muse
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Coexisting in the same space harmoniously. An ideal?
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If only
A desire to trample and vanquish all memories.
I fondly look back and there is a dull ache.
A yearning to be there again
In the same space
Making our memories
You and I together
Yet circumstances unleash their ugliness
I need to stop thinking of you.(via luxury-andfashion)
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Delirious in my state of sleep deprivation
Unrealistic were those daggers
Daggers laced in accusations
That you hurled upon myunblemished character -
Central Park
A time to weep was never born
with such thunder and applause,
as we lay on the broken grass
that eager hearts may meet.
A time to soar was never cast
To such a godly script,
With silence and snowflakes
Drifting down to seal this lover’s crypt.
An inky black sky, a howling wind,
A promise of a bright dawn,
Never clutched before so tight,
Never guarded with such thrift.
Who saw the tear, creeping
across our faces, destined to dry
forever, now that deep wounds had healed?
Even Orion had closed its eyes to sleep.
But we were not alone,
His spirit was now between us
Soldering souls, entwining destinies
For this was not a pause.
This was magic, sheer and arresting,
This was the endless summer
Of countless dreams, of buried yearning,
This was fertile ground, our central park.- Kar15hma
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Chapter 1.
He adored New York City. He idolized it all out of proportion…no, make that: he - he romanticized it all out of proportion. Yes. To him, no matter what the season was, this was still a town that existed in black and white and pulsated to the great tunes of George Gershwin.’
Er, tsch, no, missed out something.
Chapter 1.
He was too romantic about Manhattan, as he was about everything else. He thrived on the hustle bustle of the crowds and the traffic. To him, New York meant beautiful women and street-smart guys who seemed to know all the angles…’. No, no, corny, too corny for a man of my taste. Can we … can we try and make it more profound?
Chapter 1.
He adored New York City. To him, it was a metaphor for the decay of contemporary culture. The same lack of individual integrity that caused so many people to take the easy way out was rapidly turning the town of his dreams in …’
No, that’s a little bit too preachy. I mean, you know, let’s face it, I want to sell some books here.
Chapter 1.
He adored New York City, although to him it was a metaphor for the decay of contemporary culture. How hard it was to exist in a society desensitized by drugs, loud music, television, crime, garbage…’
Too angry, I don’t want to be angry.
Chapter 1.
He was as tough and romantic as the city he loved. Behind his black-rimmed glasses was the coiled sexual power of a jungle cat.’
I love this.
New York was his town, and it always would be…
