thorns, a rider

cannot concentrate all my friendship on any single one of my friends because no one is complete enough in himself.
--Anais Nin

Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.
--Anais Nin

whats harder to bear? pain or emptiness? which is less painful - loneliness or vapid company? which grates more poor character or poor diction? which is a lesser sin - unfounded intellectual snobbery or hypocritical congeniality. which hurts more, general coolth from a well maintained distance or compensated but sudden showers of rage?

how do you feel when you were waiting for something and then you realise it wont happen? how do you feel when you spend days and days waiting for something to happen but when it does, find it unbearable? if you look in the mirror and fall in love? if you look inside and want to throw up? can you fine tune your self to your taste?

and i come round once again to this ...
"Can you? Is there surgery that does that? Keep the roses. throw away the thorns. Can you discipline, control, carrot&stick yourself? can you become 'a good person'? was reading how to be good, sometime back (nick hornby)

what will happen to the bits that fall away under the knife? will the float away from the soul and drift in ether forver, islands of faults and mistakes? torn thorns. poor little thorns."

a new poem (if i may call it that) up at chocolat ...

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