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dining with Rilke
dining with Rilke I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone enough to truly consecrate the hour. I am much too small in this world, yet not small enough to be to you just object and thing, dark and smart. I want my free will and want it accompanying the path which leads to action; and want during times that beg questions, where something is up, to be among those in the know, or else be alone. I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection, never be blind or too old to uphold your weighty wavering reflection. I want to unfold. Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent; for there I would be dishonest, untrue. I want my conscience to be true before you; want to describe myself like a picture I observed for a long time, one close up, like a new word I learned and embraced, like the everyday jug, like my mother’s face, like a ship that carried me along through the deadliest storm. Rilke Honestly I didn’t know what to say when he asked me if I was all right. It’s the kind of question people ask but rarely want an honest answer to, usually preferring I’m fine, being released from the need for further discussion. But in some moments, the question really needs to be answered more fully and if it isn’t you lose your chance (forever I think). The ship sails, waters calm, and the expectation of real truth anywhere in the future dims a bit more until finally the light just goes out. Of course I didn’t want to sound petulant or demanding. I wasn’t feeling either really. I was feeling if truth be told like a fox with one leg in a trap, deciding whether I would prefer to be a three legged fox. One who’d quietly wait until everyone was gone to chew off my foot so I could escape relatively unharmed, rather than speak up and see what unholy chaos that caused. Women are so often told that they are being dramatic, demanding, critical of the smallest things. And we are. Eh, someone has to consider the grand picture, the longer story, implications for the epilogue…. The issue becomes the time invested, the emotional connection. Is this a man that I consider, as Elaine would have put it, sponge worthy? Is there a reason for me to think that he would be a ship for me through a deadly storm? Or even that he would know the things about me I consider necessary to understand my train of thought? Perhaps it’s too early to know, too early to answer or is too late to prevaricate. The hesitation has already made a point of the moment. He waits for something but I find myself lost in indecision. the relationship hanging in the balance when just moments before we were talking about Guerilla and Singleton. He tilts his head, raises his beer to his lips, sips, and waits. He gives no quarter. I find this attractive. It appeals to me that he has not repeated the question. “I was thinking of my ” my heart pounds as these words come out of my mouth. He sits quietly, waiting. As I talk, he asks questions softly. The sounds from the room filter back in. He fills my glass. You cannot conceive the many without the one. |
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I have loved Rilke forever. it does depend on the translation though - this is Brown one of the best, I think You cannot conceive the many without the one.
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Yes, I prefer this translation, also. This post made me think that I was watching a French film starring you and him in a cafe.... hm. kk The observant make the best lovers, I may not do right, but I do write, I have bliss, joy, and happiness in my life, Kitkat Come check out my blog KItkat1415 check out this post by me Adventures In Body Grooming #39 April Topic Link: What Lies Beneath If April Showers Oh Bloody Hell What Kind Of Weather Turns Me On Bloggers Symposium 40
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When we reveal What we do reveal Or do we leave doors closed not because questions unasked rather because when asked we let them escape avoided truth went with safe and in the longer run when thoughts are undone what we should have revealed appears some varnish of beauty disappears was it a deliberate avoidance we played killing truth and relationship depth slayed. Hmmm. In such moments, I think often, I allow the silence to consume, and simply move on, to next course of conversation. Thoughts in sensual pleasure to erotic writing writ. Feel free to travel - click - to my blog: An exploration introduction
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To live the illusion of reality or the reality of illusion. Vive La Difference
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When asked that, once you hesitate, your're stuck. . You must come up with something as "fine" just won't cut the mustard any longer. A quick thinker can get out of it, but the fact that you hesitated means that it's probably not something you want to share at that particular time. Quite an awkward position to be in. I think women do think about the big picture more than men. . It's their nature. Very nicely done. . I feel as though I was inside your head at that meeting And I understood. Damn, I wish I could write like you. You're the best writer on this site!
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I hope there's something strong in that glass!
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"He gives no quarter. I find this attractive." Me too. I've not much read Rilke, but your post is lovely- reflexive and intimate. Become a member now and get a free tote bag.
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Visit my Blog Older but no Wiser and find out more
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Nicely done wicked.. loved it hugs V Become a blog watcher sweet_vm
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I think only very close friends and lovers "usually" are truthful to each other. Most other people will tell variations of the truth, depending on the relationship and circumstances. To a small group of people, lying is a way of life.
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