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| diff --git a/i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html b/i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html index 8b1d55a..79b2917 100644 --- a/i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html +++ b/i-wanted-to-tell-you-something.html | |||
| @@ -1,5 +1,6 @@ | |||
| 1 | <!DOCTYPE html> | 1 | <!DOCTYPE html> |
| 2 | <!-- Template for compiled 'Autocento' documents --> | 2 | <!-- AUTOCENTO OF THE BREAKFAST TABLE --> |
| 3 | <!-- vim: fdm=indent --> | ||
| 3 | <html lang="en"> | 4 | <html lang="en"> |
| 4 | <head> | 5 | <head> |
| 5 | <meta charset="utf-8"> | 6 | <meta charset="utf-8"> |
| @@ -23,29 +24,27 @@ | |||
| 23 | <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> --> | 24 | <!-- <script src="js/external.js"> </script> --> |
| 24 | </head> | 25 | </head> |
| 25 | <body> | 26 | <body> |
| 27 | |||
| 28 | <article id="container"> | ||
| 29 | <header> | ||
| 30 | <!-- title --> | ||
| 31 | <h1 class="title">I wanted to tell you something</h1> | ||
| 32 | |||
| 26 | 33 | ||
| 27 | <article id="container"> | 34 | </header> |
| 28 | <header> | ||
| 29 | <!-- title --> | ||
| 30 | <h1 class="title">I wanted to tell you something</h1> | ||
| 31 | |||
| 32 | |||
| 33 | |||
| 34 | </header> | ||
| 35 | |||
| 36 | <section class="content verse"> | ||
| 37 | <p>I wanted to tell you something in order <a href="poetry-time.html">to</a><br />explain the way I feel about the <a href="initial-conditions.html">Universe</a>,<br />its workings, etc. But I couldn’t <a href="exasperated.html">yesterday</a><br />—I’m sorry—I wanted only to <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">ball</a><br />myself up and cry all day. It was the <a href="sixteenth-chapel.html">sixteenth</a><br />day in a row this happened to me, and to <a href="love-as-god.html">be</a></p> | ||
| 38 | <p>more than two weeks waiting to cry is,<br />especially when, the whole time, I wasn’t able to,<br />absolutely horrible. It was no sweet sixteen,<br />I’ll tell you that much. Unless at yours, the Universe<br />kept telling you to quit having such a ball<br />and that you should have died, like, yesterday.</p> | ||
| 39 | <p>At first, it feels like you’re winning—that yesterday<br />you really were meant to die, but since you still <em>are</em>,<br />you beat the system somehow. But the Universe bawls,<br />“No, I meant you should’ve crawled into<br />a hole and fucking <em>died</em>!” And then the Universe<br />punches you right in the gut, something like sixteen</p> | ||
| 40 | <p>times, and all you can think is, “Some sixteenth<br />birthday! Maybe I will go die in a hole.” Yesterday,<br />at times like this, is a luxury the cruel Universe<br />refuses to give you. This is when it’s a pain just to <em>be</em>,<br />when that Marvell line about “<a href="http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/marvell/coy.htm">rolling our stuff into one ball</a>”<br />just seems glib, when you don’t want one body, let alone two.</p> | ||
| 41 | <p>Something else that may come as a surprise to<br />you: over the past more-than-a-fortnight, these sixteen<br />days, I’ve had nothing to eat but crackers and a cheese ball.<br />(That’s not entirely true—yesterday<br />I had some candy, peppermints and Jujubes.)<br />Maybe this is why I’m so mad at the Universe—</p> | ||
| 42 | <p>because all it has ever wanted, this Universe<br />that gave me life, fed me from its breast til I was two,<br />and even before that, made a place in which I could be—<br />all it’s wanted was for me to take the sixteen<br />steps to sobriety, fold the Eight-Fold Path over yesterday<br />and step around it lightly, as I would an exercise ball,</p> | ||
| 43 | <p>but the problem is, dear Universe, there’s no way I could be<br />something as hard as all that, to wake up yesterday<br />morning, stretch over my sixteen selves, bound out like a ball.</p> | ||
| 44 | </section> | ||
| 45 | </article> | ||
| 46 | 35 | ||
| 36 | <section class="content verse"> | ||
| 37 | <p>I wanted to tell you something in order <a href="poetry-time.html">to</a><br />explain the way I feel about the <a href="initial-conditions.html">Universe</a>,<br />its workings, etc. But I couldn’t <a href="exasperated.html">yesterday</a><br />—I’m sorry—I wanted only to <a href="ouroboros_memory.html">ball</a><br />myself up and cry all day. It was the <a href="sixteenth-chapel.html">sixteenth</a><br />day in a row this happened to me, and to <a href="love-as-god.html">be</a></p> | ||
| 38 | <p>more than two weeks waiting to cry is,<br />especially when, the whole time, I wasn’t able to,<br />absolutely horrible. It was no sweet sixteen,<br />I’ll tell you that much. Unless at yours, the Universe<br />kept telling you to quit having such a ball<br />and that you should have died, like, yesterday.</p> | ||
| 39 | <p>At first, it feels like you’re winning—that yesterday<br />you really were meant to die, but since you still <em>are</em>,<br />you beat the system somehow. But the Universe bawls,<br />“No, I meant you should’ve crawled into<br />a hole and fucking <em>died</em>!” And then the Universe<br />punches you right in the gut, something like sixteen</p> | ||
| 40 | <p>times, and all you can think is, “Some sixteenth<br />birthday! Maybe I will go die in a hole.” Yesterday,<br />at times like this, is a luxury the cruel Universe<br />refuses to give you. This is when it’s a pain just to <em>be</em>,<br />when that Marvell line about “<a href="http://www.luminarium.org/sevenlit/marvell/coy.htm">rolling our stuff into one ball</a>”<br />just seems glib, when you don’t want one body, let alone two.</p> | ||
| 41 | <p>Something else that may come as a surprise to<br />you: over the past more-than-a-fortnight, these sixteen<br />days, I’ve had nothing to eat but crackers and a cheese ball.<br />(That’s not entirely true—yesterday<br />I had some candy, peppermints and Jujubes.)<br />Maybe this is why I’m so mad at the Universe—</p> | ||
| 42 | <p>because all it has ever wanted, this Universe<br />that gave me life, fed me from its breast til I was two,<br />and even before that, made a place in which I could be—<br />all it’s wanted was for me to take the sixteen<br />steps to sobriety, fold the Eight-Fold Path over yesterday<br />and step around it lightly, as I would an exercise ball,</p> | ||
| 43 | <p>but the problem is, dear Universe, there’s no way I could be<br />something as hard as all that, to wake up yesterday<br />morning, stretch over my sixteen selves, bound out like a ball.</p> | ||
| 44 | </section> | ||
| 45 | </article> | ||
| 47 | <nav> | 46 | <nav> |
| 48 | <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> ◊ </a> | 47 | <a href="#" id="lozenge" title="Random page"> ◊ </a> |
| 49 | </nav> | 48 | </nav> |
| 50 | </body> | 49 | </body> |
| 51 | </html> | 50 | </html> |