
You have tamed me, now you must take me
How am I supposed to be? I don't have my thorns now
But I feel them sprouting- they'll grow right through if I don't watch them
They'll grow right through even if I watch them and a sunset couldn't save me now
These baobabs, and baobabs, and baobabs some more...
But you can't out-wait fate
(Can you tell I've been reading The Little Prince? It is incredible. Above lyrics are from Regina Spektor's song Baobabs.)
I just realized how nerdy my friends and I are. Like, all we've done this summer so far is hang out in Barnes and Nobles and/or the park and/or the mall and/or the museum, and eat Starbucks junk and watch scifi movies and complain about our lives. It's fun though.
Recently made two rather silly purchases within two days of each other...new eyeshadow (which isn't necessarily silly but I just hate spending money on makeup, seems kind of pointless) and a book of poems. Poems of the sea. Full fathom five thy father lies and all that good stuff. I am hopelessly besotted with everything related to seafaring folklore...Moby Dick, Rime of the Ancient Mariner, Seabird, The Odyssey, myths about Poseidon, even the POTC movies. This is probably because, as I have said, when I was about 8 my greatest ambition in life was to grow up to be a siren and lure sailors to watery, bone-scattered graves. Old habits die hard. Here, I will share some with you.
The Tuft of Kelp
Herman Melville
All dripping in tangles green,
Cast up by a lonely sea
If purer for that, O Weed,
Bitterer, too, are ye?
Sea Change
Genevieve Taggard
You are no more, but sunken in a sea
Sheer into dreams, ten thousand leagues, you fell;
And now you lie green-golden, while a bell
Swings with the tide, my heart; and all is well
Till I look down, and wavering, the spell-
Your loveliness- returns. There in the sea,
Where you lie amber-pale and coral-cool,
You are most loved, most lost, most beautiful.
The World Below the Brine
Walt Whitman
The world below the brine,
Forests at the bottom of the sea, the branches and leaves,
Sea-lettuce, vast lichens, strange flowers and seeds, the thick tangle openings, and pink turf,
Different colors, pale gray and green, purple, white, and gold, the play of light through the water,
Dumb swimmers there among the rocks, coral, gluten, grass, rushes, and the aliment of the swimmers,
Sluggish existences grazing there suspended, or slowly crawling close to the bottom,
The sperm-whale at the surface blowing air and spray, or disporting with his flukes,
The leaden-eyed shark, the walrus, the turtle, the hairy sea-leopard, and the sting-ray,
Passions there, wars, pursuits, tribes, sight in those ocean-depths, breathing that thick-breathing air, as so many do,
The change thence to the sight here, and to the subtle air breathed by beings like us who walk this sphere,
The change onward from ours to that of beings who walk other spheres.
And then I was in the library today (I'm volunteering there this summer) and decided that as of now the children's librarian is Hufflepuff and the YA librarian is probably Slytherin.
So I need help, obviously.
you are too obsessed with the ocean. it is unhealthy.

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