bookmark_borderPoem: When I Say I Love the Rain – 14 June, 2021

After a fairly unproductive day, I ate a small dinner outside the back of my apartment which is a small slab of concrete upon which there are two small tables, and three chairs. A neighbor was outside a few apartments away. He was on the phone and holding one of his young children. They both went inside shortly after I finished eating. Perhaps they knew the rain was coming.

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bookmark_borderThurs. 22 April 2021; 03:14 – Bed

Earlier tonight I began reading Hisham Matar’s novel, In the Country of Men. In it, the narrator’s mother speaks of grief, a topic I have been reading about, experiencing, and thinking of quite a bit lately.

“Grief loves the hollow; all it wants is to hear its own echo.”

Spoken by the character Najwa in Hisham Matar’s In the Country of Men

A thought occurred to me the other day. I had heard (or possibly read) the phrase “it’s what you do that matters” which is similar to the phrase “actions speak louder than words.” I thought about this for some time, and I began to wonder what if saying something took as much effort as doing something. What would the world look like if it took as much effort to speak as it did to perform an activity?

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bookmark_border15 April 2021 (feat. The Blanket poem)

Another night of restlessness.

I wrote a poem while lying in bed. I think it’s too sentimental, and therefore too amateur. Is sentimentality amateur? If so then there’s no hope for me. I am far too sentimental.

Yet I have problems with sentimentality. At least overly sentimental writing.

— (read on after the poem for an unintentional book review) —

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