"I am offering this poem to you, since I have nothing else to give." ~Jimmy Santiago Baca
“I’m restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again.”
***
She’s talking in her sleep, it’s keeping me awake
And Anna begins to toss and turn
And every word is nonsense but I understand and
oh lord. I’m not ready for this sort of thing
“Anna Begins” by Counting Crows
“I am only responsible for my own heart, you offered yours up for the smashing my darling. Only a fool would give out such a vital organ.”
– Anaïs Nin
“We are like sculptors, constantly carving out of others the image we long for, need, love or desire, often against reality, against their benefit, and always, in the end, a disappointment, because it does not fit them.”
– Anaïs Nin
“I need my small, meaningless lies. I need all my self-created semi-truths. It’s the only way for me to keep exclusive parts of myself to myself. Believe me, I do not even perceive them as lies. It’s something different that keeps happening inside my head. At the same time, I long to tell you the truth about me, always. I want to share with you each important or unimportant detail and feel and fully embrace the very act of sharing. But it occurs to me that it’s the hardest of tasks; I hate it. I hate unveiling bits and pieces of anything permanent or temporary that resides in me. I loathe it with my heart. You can find more honesty in the smallest of my gestures rather in my words; my words are too impatient, too loose, too doomed in some way.”
– Anaïs Nin
Words ... for the Time Being 