In the horizon, where we lost track of time...

We ought to post more, to write more. After all, we find some degree of profound joy in writing or scribbling, right?  Well, for whatever it is worth, I am sorry. Je suis désolé. Je sais je peux etre tres paresseux parfois. I am practicing my French, which is still pas tres bien.

Hours come and go, days come and go, weeks come and go, months come and go: at times we do not notice at all. And we do wonder why. The present will tend to kick a person once in a while though--even ones oblivious as we are. Things rush through the mind like a vengeful and unrelenting flood. What can a meager mortal do before such wrath--wrath of one's very own psyche? Dites-moi.... Oh well.

We went to dine in a "floating restaurant", which is an hour and a half away from the city, about two months ago. It was not actually floating, though it was built on the shoreline so there is water below; but they call it as such. The food was okay, though in retrospect, not really worth all the travelling time and the money.

But at least we got to take these photos:

The view makes one go on a ponderous mood. 

P.S. Never-mind the third person plural - first person shifts. We are quite fou like that.

I Carry Your Heart With Me, by e.e. cummings

i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart)

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

~e. e. cummings

You can listen to my attempt at poetry reading HERE>>>> i carry your heart with me (i carry it in my heart).

This is one of my favorite poetry pieces from Edward Estlin Cummings, a poet who has published almost a thousand poems. How prolific, eh?

For some reason this poem reminds me greatly of Neruda's Sonnet XVII. Both make me think: This is how one should love, if one should love at all! Just one heart, one soul...there is no I, nor you.

And I am not sentimental...