St. Petersburg, 4:15 pm

  “For, after all, you do grow up, you do outgrow your ideals, which turn to dust and ashes, which are shattered into fragments; and if you have no other life, you just have to build one up out of these fragments. And all the time your soul is craving and longing for something else.

And in vain does the dreamer rummage about in his old dreams, raking them over as though they were a heap of cinders, looking in these cinders for some spark, however tiny, to fan it into a flame so as to warm his chilled blood by it and revive in it all that he held so dear before, all that touched his heart, that made his blood course through his veins, that drew tears from his eyes, and that so splendidly deceived him!”

 quoted from Dostoevsky's "White Nights"
Read the rest of this entry...

Icarus

I tried a-beggin' on the cabin floor
But the churches have run out of candles
Turn one day in the cathedral
I finally lit you a candle
And all along the vaulted halls
The virgins did smile from their mantles


"I keep thinking, you know, that we'd have so much more to say to each other. But this isn't the way to do it. Here, come closer. Why don't we count to ten, love, while the sky is falling."

The brightness outside grew and spread. And screamed.

"I just thought we'd save each other."

"We did, darling, we did."

It's always just that little bit more
That doesn't get you what you're looking for
But gets you where you need to go
But the churches have run out of candles.
Read the rest of this entry...