Comme moi elle attend

Someone is pensive tonight.

Spent the rest of my day reading my book of short stories.

People often tell me that they dream with their guards on, lest they be let down. Eh, a pragmatic dream? Are there such things? There is something to be said about waiting for your dream to come true. And while doing so, by all means do raise your hope. As high as you want. Wish upon the shooting star. Want with all your might the golden deer that evaporates right before your eyes.

His sparkling gait peters out
Out of my sight
Far away into the forest of my dreams
Catch him i cannot
For my eyes are dazzled by his golden dust

"Now it is a funny thing about life" said S. Maugham. "If you refuse to accept anything but the best, you very often get it". I like that idea. I can wait a lifetime for a moment.

Comme moi elle est. Eurydice. Elle attend, en espérant en dépit de tout, contre tout espoir. The nymph who fell in love, and was thus banished into the house of death. One chance was all she had. You know the story. Orpheus, his exquisite refrain was but in vain. And she was forever frozen à la porte bleue. In eternal wait.

But if you listen closely, you can hear her. In the hushed silence of the poignant night, when children sleep deep in the laps of their mothers and earth heaves a weighed sigh.

Come back, Orpheus. Come get me. I have been waiting for you. Pick up your flute. Drown the world, drown the sky, drown the earth. Play once more. And then.