The Way Back

For years, I thought The Way Back was the most beautiful, most romantic, most moving, most tragic Leonard Cohen poem. I thought that it defined me. I loved the patient, unrequited but still vaguely-destined-to-be love it conveyed. I thought I wanted to be that tragic, patient, mourning love:

“I wait for you at an unexpected place in your journey like the rusted key or the feather you do not pick up until the way back after it is clear the remote and painful destination changed nothing in your life”

Until someone came along who felt that I had value that was untarnished, immediate, and lasting.

Fuck tragedy. I choose joy.

Look what came in the mail today :) Thank you MollyPeck:D

Last week, I was running to the post office on an errand, and I asked “Who still needs a copy of Nanoka?” (because we have very strict rules about physical objects in our home– once we have enjoyed something thoroughly, it generally must move on, unless it is Leonard Cohen-related, because no matter how many times you give away Beautiful Losers, Stranger Music, or The Favourite Game, you are going to buy them again). Danny replied first, so he got my copy, but the email Sean sent was so funny (and polite and professional and sincere– it was as if he was interviewing for an internship and voicing an “I can haz cheeseburger?” cat all at once) that I had to order another copy so he could have one. Danny… Sean… You know there is a duty that comes with a copy of Nanoka, right?

60/365 Now there’s nothing that I tell you that will help you connect the blood tortured night with the day that comes next. but I want it to hurt you, I want it to end. oh, won’t you be naked for me?

(Please Don’t Pass Me By/ A Disgrace– Leonard Cohen)

Let us be two severe giants not less lonely for our partnership

182/365 owning everything

192/365 who by fire

238/365 But I want it to hurt you. I want it to end. Oh, won’t you be naked for me? 

239/365 she said at last I was her finest lover, and if she withered I would be to blame

241/365 will you come into my life with your sorrow and your black carriages

Old, and probably posted previously…

Leonard Cohen, Take this Longing (via mollybroxton)

264/365 mean governess of the huge pink maps