How it all began: 31/12/09 -

So here it is my narcassistic page of golden syrup on toast and there you are the faceless crown i'm telling my tale to, gratis therapy of the 21st century....

You my lil blogger friends are invited along for the ride but i'm warning you now, it ain't going to be easy as we both know its not like it is in the movies... this is going to be one gnaryly self absorbed, rocky road and you'll need to pull your socks up if you are going to keep up!





Saturday 13 March 2010

One Art

The art of losing isn't hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster,
Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.

The art of losing isn't hard to master.
Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.


I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three beloved houses went.
The art of losing isn't hard to master.


I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.


-- Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master,
though it may look like (Write it!) a disaster.
 
----------------
Elizabeth Bishop

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