I love reading the first page of a book and knowing that I'm going to blow through it in a week.
Even at this hour, a late start is a good start to my small comforts.
And the fucking author writes like me.
Fucked up-like. Fragmented and shit.
"I keep the beast running."
ReplyDelete“When Will I Be Home?”
When will I be home? I don’t know.
In the mountains, in the rainy night,
The autumn lake is flooded.
Someday we will be together again.
We will sit in the candlelight by the west window.
And I will tell you how I remember you
Tonight on the stormy mountain.
by Li Shang-Yin