But I'll be alive. Chew that acrid morsel of hope, its a bitter pill but It'll do you good. I'll be alive, kicking puking and mewling with the continual pains of rebirth. I'll be alive and oh, my God - what a joyful, wonderous wretchedness it's going to be. Truly awful. Wonderful, then, to be alive and miserable. A whole new universe of failure to come crashing down on my unprotected noggin. And maybe, it's doubtful, but just maybe, in the midst of all of it I'll find a new kind of failure - or perhaps a very old one, old as Eden, old as Israel's hope getting nailed to a tree - a special kind of failure; A sort of death, a sort of success, a sort of Joy.
klik if you demand tedious explanations of every little thing.
No comments:
Post a Comment