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4am thoughts
Monday, June 16, 2014 || 3:04 AM
I like to re-read books. I find comfort; amenity in reading and re-reading the same lines over and over (and over and over) - knowing the next line before my eyes can scan the slope of the letters, before the words register in my brain to make sense of a story or a thought. Sometimes when it gets late and I can't seem to fall asleep, I read my favourite poem (Having a Coke With You by Frank O' Hara, please go google it if you have never read it). I read it repeatedly, relishing each line with renewed awe until my eyes get weary and my heart beat slows down to a steady pace. Every so often, after my eyes get tired from the constant scanning and my eyelids need to flutter shut, I switch to the video of O'Hara reading his own work. I love the lull of his voice: I continue to echo the same words in my brain again and again and again (God, I don't even know why I like that poem so much - I just do, it is so fantastically romantic). I've been doing this since I was fifteen and the poem touched my heart for the very first time - two years later I have it memorised, every word burnt into the edges of my cerebellum; each line tattoed all over my nerves.
How can I claim I get bored of things easily (I always argue that shine dulls and that novelty begets interest) when I can devour these things time and time again and feel just as good? Or perhaps that is exactly why I like doing that - because books and poems and movies will always be there for you despite your fickle mind and wayward tendencies. Put them down and they'll wait for you indefinitely; pick them up and they'll always love you wholly and without reason.
Or maybe I am a freaking liar. Maybe I need the same thing thrown in my face repeatedly, I want to drown in it and I want to drown in you - too much is never enough.
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