Politics and pretty boys

When you’re in a battle against an enemy so much bigger, so much stronger than you, well, to find out you had a friend you never knew existed, well, that’s the best feeling in the world. So, thank you.

aries: virginia woolf

I belong to quick, futile moments of intense feeling. Yes, I belong to moments. Not to people.

taurus: hans christian andersen

She laughed and danced with the thought of death in her heart.

gemini: t.s. eliot

Ah, but we die to each other daily. What we know of other people Is only our memory of the moments During which we knew them. And they have changed since then. To pretend that they and we are the same Is a useful and convenient social convention Which must sometimes be broken. We must also remember That at every meeting we are meeting a stranger.

cancer: henry david thoreau

And if she faintly glimmers here, And paled is her light, Yet always in her proper sphere She’s mistress of the night.

leo: james joyce

As I am. As I am. All or not at all.

virgo: william wordsworth

“What occupation do you there pursue? This is a lonesome place for one like you.” Ere he replied, a flash of mild surprise Broke from the sable orbs of his yet-vivid eyes.

libra: anne sexton

I was the girl full of talk of coffins and keyholes.

scorpio: shel silverstein

This town grows old around me.  I cannot say I did not hear That sound so haunting hollow— I heard, I heard, I heard it clear… I was afraid to follow. 

sagittarius: lewis carroll

I can’t go back to yesterday because I was a different person then.

capricorn: anaïs nin

I adore the struggle you carry in yourself. I adore your terrifying sincerity.

aquarius: margaret atwood

You think I’m not a goddess? Try me. This is a torch song. Touch me and you’ll burn.

pisces: percy shelley 

Gentleman with 5,000 pounds a year Handsome tragic veteran Dashing officer of good breeding Gentleman with 10,000 pounds a year Liberal-minded heir to a large estate

Your phone buzzes: 

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Jolene (33 R.P.M) - click for .mp3

Unsure where this came from, if not the palsied hands of the good Lord himself.

Simple premise: Dolly Parton’s “Jolene” slipped from 45 to 33 rpm. Nothing more; no studio trickery, no trip hop drum breaks. The guitar lopes back in and around itself. The bass becomes elastic, hot rubber. The violin stabs become sustained cello lines. The backing choir’s split harmony rattles around, slinking ghostly into the corner.  And most importantly, Parton’s once-frantic vocal is transformed from bubblegum country scrawl into something approximating field holler reverence. 

Sigh no more, ladies, sigh no more.    Men were deceivers ever, One foot in sea, and one on shore,    To one thing constant never. Then sigh not so, but let them go,    And be you blithe and bonny, Converting all your sounds of woe    Into hey nonny, nonny.