this is water.

let me be

“dear god,” she prayed,

“let me be something every minute of every hour of my life.

let me be gay;
let me be sad.
let me be cold;
let me be warm.
let me be hungry
have too much to eat. let me be

wrestle it to the ground

closeness,” he said,

surveying the congregation.

“it’s easy to be close,
but almost impossible to stay close.

think about friends.
think about hobbies.
even ideas.

they’re close to us—
sometimes so close we think they are part of us

and then,

at some point,

they aren’t close anymore.

they go away.

// only one thing can keep something close over time:

holding it there.
grappling with it.
wrestling it to the ground (as jacob did with the angel,)
and refusing to let go.

what we don’t wrestle
we let go of……

love isn’t the absence of struggle.

love is struggle.

:: jonathan safran foer

from
here i am

selective serotonin

men into blocks

if you take a flat map

and move wooden blocks upon it strategically,
the thing looks well, the blocks behave as they should.

the science of war is moving live men like blocks.
and getting the blocks into place at a fixed moment.

but it takes time to mold your men into blocks

and flat maps turn into country where creeks and gullies
hamper your wooden squares.

they stick in the brush,
they are tired and rest, they straggle after ripe blackberries,
and you cannot lift them up in your hand [and] move them. men into blocks