Books!

Jan. 17th, 2009 05:47 pm
littlelotte: (Lindsay reading)
Like all lovers, they had soon assembled (as on a revolving stage) the places where the scenes of their drama alternately took place: a little Ukrainian diner whose windows were always occluded with steam, where the tea was black and so was the bread; the Folding Bedroom of course; a vast gloomy theater encrusted with Egyptian decoration, where the movies were cheap and changed often and played into the morning; the Nite Owl market; the Seventh Saint Bar & Grill.

--Little, Big, by John Crowley

This is the sort of book that you just fall into. Very fantastical, but very real, too. I was suggested it by a person I didn't even really know, so I found myself surprised to actually pick it up at the library and fall for it.

This quote suddenly had me mentally assembling my own such places--the places I see when I envision a certain friendship or other relationship. Each person in the book my memory with their own little movies.

...obviously I've been reading and reminiscing too much lately.

More songs!

Jan. 1st, 2009 01:34 am
littlelotte: (Secretary)
So Dan and many of his friends really like Nick Cave--and by "really" I mean they're obsessed. There are songs of his that are incredibly intoxicating to me, but in general I'm not a huge fan. Dan made a mix CD for the trip up to Grand Rapids yesterday and I'm suddenly obsessed with this one:

Lovely Creature
Nick Cave

There she stands, this lovely creature
There she stands, there she stands
With her hair full of ribbons
And green gloves on her hands
So I asked this lovely creature
Yes, I asked. Yes I asked
Would she walk with me a while
Through this night so fast
She took my hand, this lovely creature
"Yes", she said, "Yes", she said
"Yes, I'll walk with you a while"
It was a joyful man she led
Over hills, this lovely creature
Over mountains, over ranges
By great pyramids and sphinxes
We met drifters and strangers
On the sands, my lovely creature
And the mad, moaning winds
At night the deserts writhed
With diabolical things
Through the night, through the night
The wind lashed and it whipped me
When I got home, my lovely creature
She was no longer with me
Somewhere she lies, this lovely creature
Beneath the slow drifting sands
With her hair full of ribbons
And green gloves on her hands

*giggles*

Jun. 10th, 2008 01:15 pm
littlelotte: (waitress)
Dan and I both love our work and our industry. Given that, we talk a disproportionate amount of "shop." Last night he was thumbing through one of my bar books (The Art of the Bar--click the title for the webpage) and discovered it talked about a bartender's mise en place (which he thought was amusing and implied that a mise en place is a cook thing only :-P Be certain that I set him straight on that). Somehow, while I was explaining how the art of mixology is rather like a mix between cooking and chemistry, he started talking about cooking eggs. I really can't tell you the contents of the conversation past his remark that "Eggs can smell fear."

He was utterly confused by my laughter and subsequent, "Since when did eggs become sentient beings capable of knowing when the person cooking them is terrified of destroying them?"

I'm not sure I will ever let him live it down.

Now it's time to finish getting ready for work :-P

*sighs*

May. 15th, 2008 12:47 pm
littlelotte: (Childlike Empress)
There is typically one song that just catches me the second I hear it and WILL. NOT. LET. GO. when it comes to David Lynch films. I finally got my hands on "Polish Poem" from Inland Empire (I'm ordering the CD, too, shush, don't worry).

I don't think these lyrics are perfect, but pretty close...
http://community.livejournal.com/davidlynch/297180.html

Chrysta Bell – Polish Poem
from the INLAND EMPIRE Original Soundtrack

I sing this poem to you...
On the other side, I see…
Shall you wait, glowing?
It’s far away, far away from me,
I can see that -
I can see that -
the wind blows outside and I have no breath,
I breathe again and know I’ll have to live
To forget my world is ending.
I have to live…
I hear my heart beat,
Fluttering in pain, saying something,
Tears are coming to my eyes -
I cry…I cry…
I cannot feel the warmth of the sun
I cannot hear the laughter
Choking with every thought,
I see the faces,
My hands are tied as I wish -
But no one comes,
No one comes,
Where are you?
Where are you?
What will make me want to live?
What will make me want to love?
Tell me…tell me…

I sing this poem to you…to you…
Is this mystery unfolding
As a wind floating?
Something is coming true -
The dream of an innocent child…

Something is happening -
Something is happening…

Because...

Apr. 22nd, 2008 09:36 am
littlelotte: (Labyrinth - cracked mirror)
...I just watched one of my top ten favorite movies (I bought it a couple of weeks ago) you get quotes...and me harassing you all that you need to watch Conversation(s) With Other Women...because it's theatre on film and it's absolutely brilliant.

--

Woman: You know what? I'm very reliable.
Man: You never used to be.
Woman: You know what? Suffice it to say, there are lots of things that I used to be, that I am no longer. And mind you, there are lots of things I've never thought of, either, that I unexpectedly am.


Woman: God, you put that champagne flute in front of me. I so knew what was going to happen. I looked at that glass and I thought, "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck." [Man laughs] No, it's not funny. I am married to a well-respected cardiologist, and I so try to do the right thing, but there's something about you that just sends me in the opposite direction. It's not gonna turn out well. There are no happy endings in our future.
Man: I know that.
Woman: Do you?

Man: Should I ever call you if I'm in London?
Woman: No. No way. You wouldn't recognize me anyway.


Woman: I was in hospital for six months.
Man: You were alone.
Woman: Yes.
Man: You shouldn't have been alone.
Woman: I wanted to be alone.
Man: You should have called me.
Woman: I thought of calling you. I almost called you.
Man: You should have called me. I would have come.
Woman: I know. I knew. I liked knowing that.


Man: If I told you I still loved you, that I always loved you, that I loved you to distraction, would you leave him?
Woman: No.

--

And now I have other things that I have to do or else I'll be annoyed with myself later.
littlelotte: (OR)
I wanted to jot it down before I forgot...I just came across somebody in a community mentioning doing literary readings rather than bible readings at their ceremony. Since neither of us are of the Bible-reading type, and our ceremony is going to be non-religious, I suddenly had this flash of an idea...

I want to do my vows from Only Revolutions, of course, and I think I've got it completely set. Dan mentioned something about possibly doing his from the Penelope chapter of Ulysses, but I'm not sure if there's anything really really appropriate for that. For those of you who don't know either of those novels, the author of Only Revolutions loves James Joyce, and there are many Joycean/Ulysses nods in OR. Of course (bad Lindsay!) I still haven't actually read the entirety of Ulysses, so I don't know (for those not aware, Dan has "Yes" tattooed on his arm--bonus points for those of you who get it, and mass confusion for those who don't ;-)). I am thinking, however, that it might be a really really cool idea to have one of our more literary-minded friends (it has to be somebody who gets it) read a passage from it between processional and the start of the ceremony! Given the subject matter, it could be brilliant!

the sun shines for you he said the day we were lying among the rhododendrons on Howth head in the grey tweed suit and his straw hat the day I got him to propose to me yes first I gave him the bit of seedcake out of my mouth and it was leapyear like now yes 16 years ago my God after that long kiss I near lost my breath yes he said was a flower of the mountain yes so we are flowers all a womans body yes that was one true thing he said in his life and the sun shines for you today yes that was why I liked him because I saw he understood or felt what a woman is and I knew I could always get round him and I gave him all the pleasure I could leading him on till he asked me to say yes and I wouldnt answer first only looked out over the sea and the sky I was thinking of so many things he didnt know of Mulvey and Mr Stanhope and Hester and father and old captain Groves and the sailors playing all birds fly and I say stoop and washing up dishes they called it on the pier and the sentry in front of the governors house with the thing round his white helmet poor devil half roasted and the Spanish girls laughing in their shawls and their tall combs and the auctions in the morning the Greeks and the jews and the Arabs and the devil knows who else from all the ends of Europe and Duke street and the fowl market all clucking outside Larby Sharans and the poor donkeys slipping half asleep and the vague fellows in the cloaks asleep in the shade on the steps and the big wheels of the carts of the bulls and the old castle thousands of years old yes and those handsome Moors all in white and turbans like kings asking you to sit down in their little bit of a shop and Ronda with the old windows of the posadas glancing eyes a lattice hid for her lover to kiss the iron and the wineshops half open at night and the castanets and the night we missed the boat at Algeciras the watchman going about serene with his lamp and O that awful deepdown torrent O and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down Jo me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes.

God I love James Joyce. Why have I not read this novel yet?

...

Feb. 16th, 2008 05:18 pm
littlelotte: (OR)
I forgot how heartbreaking this movie is, and just why it's one of my absolute favorites. The first time I saw it was my junior year of college, less than a year after Dan and I had started dating. I didn't even get through the first twenty minutes before I nearly lost it and almost couldn't keep watching. It was so beautiful, though, that I had to. Not to mention, I never would have heard the end of it if I had to stop watching just because it just hurt too much to imagine losing Dan like that.

Is that kind of an occupational hazard of soul mates? One's not much without the other?

I guess this is why it's been so long since I last watched it. I'm only not a wreck right now because I'm also doing laundry and typing on this and keeping myself otherwise occupied.

-Sometimes when you win, you lose.
-Sometimes when we lose, we win.


--

I want it all, as long as it's with you.

For anybody who hasn't read the novel:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/What_Dreams_May_Come

And the movie:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/What_Dreams_May_Come_%28film%29

Edit: Speaking of heartbreaking movies that I can't handle watching...now I have my Lost in Translation DVD in, and the previews are playing. Have any of you seen 21 Grams? Brilliant movie that I will never be able to watch ever ever again because it just hurts too much.

oooh...

Jan. 25th, 2008 10:42 pm
littlelotte: (G&T)
Somebody posted this in [livejournal.com profile] literaryquotes and it's wonderful:

The Sum of our Days, Isabel Allende.
On a trip to India:

We didn't have our safety belts on because of the issue of karma: nobody dies before their time.

I think that is an amazing and perfect quote. Of course, I think we all know that I thoroughly believe in Fate.

Also, went up to Holland to visit [livejournal.com profile] amneria while she's in the state. [livejournal.com profile] madbillyblack was there, also, and we had a great time. We had lunch at an Irish pub, and I had boxty (and their boxty was amazing), and coffee, and we wandered around. I left early because I wanted to get back and see Dan for a little bit before we had to get to bed (we both open at our respective restaurants tomorrow morning). I happened to drive into town just as him and some of his coworkers were on their way to Fandango for tapas and drinks.

Fandango is amazing. We'd been there a couple of times before, but not in quite a while, so it was really, really amazing--especially going there with true Foodies. I had the Luna martini (which isn't listed on the site), and it was phenominal--it has vodka (I upscaled it to Belvedere), cucumber-infused water, mint, simple syrup, and cucumber in it. Heavenly. They also have sesame-crusted and marinated tuna cubes on top of cucumber slices which consist of THE most amazing sashimi-grade tuna I have ever had. Their flan was also amazing, and topped with a Licor 43 glaze and garnished with an orchid. Yum. I got three other people to try orchid (yay on me!), though I would have also loved to have the blossom all to myself. Note to all would-be cooks: never use a garnish unless it's edible, attractive, and adds something to the dish. Aside from the rasberry mimosas we created for NYE at the Brewery one year, I've only seen orchid used as a garnish one other time prior to this--on my sushi platter the first time I went to Pacific Moon in Newport, KY. People always look at me amazed when I start eating it...most people have no idea you can.

Okay...bedtime now. I have to be up way too early :-P
littlelotte: (Chopsticks!)
*falls over laughing* Lifetime is playing Frasier episodes. One of my favorites is currently on--when Roz wins a ski resort weekend and gives it to Frasier. Frasier, Niles, their dad, Daphne, Daphne's friend Annie, and the ski instructor are all staying there. It's pure bedroom farce complete with doors slamming all over the place, and it's absolutely hysterical.

http://www.frasieronline.co.uk/episodeguide/season5/ep14.htm

Of course, one of my favorite exchanges from the episode isn't on there :-( Ooh! Found it elsewhere!

Niles and Frasier talking about Annie...
Niles: I grant you she's comely, but don't you find she's a tad--what would the polite euphemism be---stupid?
Frasier: Niles, she's just unschooled, like Liza Doolittle. You find her the right Henry Higgins, she'll be ready for a ball in no time.
Niles: Leave it to you to put the "Pig" back in "Pygmalion."
[...Annie and Daphne enter...]
Frasier: Look at that vista, it's stunning! Puts one in mind of the Matterhorn, doesn't it?
Annie: Oh, I wouldn't know. I'm not very musical.

The episode where Niles and Frasier air-violin to the Brandenburg concertos at the end is rather hysterical, too. I think that's the episode that really won Dan over and left him laughing for about five minutes after.
littlelotte: (Default)
Somebody commented to a journal on my flist with this. I couldn't resist reposting it:

Pain, with hope and solace and glimmerings of what might be a struggling joy. Such is life when well-lived.
littlelotte: (Books - Read)
I just started Italo Calvino's If on a winter's night a traveler and was hooked by the first lines. This really has to be the most brilliant first chapter ever written, and one perfect for any true lover of books...

In the shop window you have promptly identified the cover with the title you were looking for. Following this visual trail, you have forced your way through the shop past the thick barricade of Books You Haven't Read, which were frowning at you from the tables and shelves, trying to cow you. But you know you must never allow yourself to be awed, that among them there extend for acres and acres the Books You Needn't Read, the Books Made For Purposes Other Than Reading, Books Read Even Before You Open Them Since They Belong To The Category Of Books Read Before Being Written. And thus you pass the outer girdle of ramparts, but then you are attacked by the infantry of the Books That If You Had More Than One Life You Would Certainly Also Read But Unfortunately Your Days Are Numbered. With a rapid maneuver you bypass them and move into the phalanxes of the Books You Mean To Read But There Are Others You Must Read First, the Books Too Expensive Now And You'll Wait Till They're Remaindered, the Books ditto When They Come Out In Paperback, Books You Can Borrow From Somebody, Books That Everybody's Read So It's As If You Had Read Them, Too. Eluding these assaults, you come up beneath the towers of the fortress, where other troops are holding out: . . .

*giggles*

The entire first chapter. I insist you take ten minutes to read it if you love books:
http://www.sccs.swarthmore.edu/users/00/pwillen1/lit/winter.htm

This icon has never been more appropriate ;-)
littlelotte: (OR - Sam)
from the front page of LJ...I think this is exceedingly creepy. Anybody agree?

[livejournal.com profile] crush_posts
Share a photo of your crush, and why you love them


Creepy.

Also, I absolutely hate that I now have an obscene amount of wedding ads on my Facebook with my status as "engaged." Evil. Amusing, too, though. I couldn't resist clicking on this particular link: http://weddingsongs.weddingwire.com/weddingsongs/7/firstdancesongs.html I suggest you comment with the most out-of-place song on that list. It's a tough call. You've Got A Friend in Me and Thank You for Being A Friend definitely rank high on my personal "out-of-place" songs, but they're by no means the only ones.

So far as entrance songs go, however, when I very first saw Hannibal in the theater, there was no question from the opera scene on that if I were ever to get married (I wasn't even dating anybody at that particular time) that this Vide cor meum from Dante's La vita nuova would be the song played as I entered. Period.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vide_Cor_Meum
The opera scene from the movie
The song in its entirety with clips from Hannibal

Oh Dante and Beatrice...the penultimate unrequited love. My journal title is from La vita nuova, actually, for those who never caught it before: In that book which is my memory, on the first page of the chapter that is the day when I first met you, appear the words, "Here begins a new life."

Random...

Nov. 20th, 2007 11:58 am
littlelotte: (OR)
So one of the artists I really enjoy, but never get around to buying the album, is Kiran Ahluwalia. I heard her a couple of years ago on NPR. She sings gazhals (an old form of Indian love songs), and has an absolutely stunning voice. I just happened to be listening on her site and reading lyrics, and I wanted to post this one...

Saaqiya (Wine Bearer)

Ghazal
Music: Traditional
Lyrics: Mustafa Zaidi

Lyrics:
Saaqiya jaam utha saaqiya mai pila
Raat dhalti rahai daur chalta rahai
Rindh madhosh ho ho kay girtai rahain
Pinay walon ka armaan nikalta rahai

Dekh kar unki zulfoon ko rookhsaar par
Jee uthi phir tamana tarko jigar
Yun hi chehre pay zulfain machalti rahain
Chand chup chup kay yun hi nikalta rahai

Talkhiyeh zindagi is kadar badh gayee
Talkhiyeh mayn ka mainay sahara liya
Warna thi itni phursat jahan may kisay
Yoon bahakta rahai or sambhalta rahai


Translation:
Wine bearer, lift the goblet, pour the wine.
Let the night flow, let the wine glow.
Let the drinkers get inebriated, let them lose their footing.
Let the drinkers satisfy their desires.

Looking at her locks gracing her cheeks,
my feelings for her have again been stoked.
Let her locks remain falling off her face.
Let the moon keep playing hide and seek.

Bitterness of life has so increased
that I have come to rely on the
bitterness of wine for recompense.
Otherwise, who had such leisure in life
to stumble and to regain footing again and again.


Translated by Professor Saleem Qureshi

hmmm

Sep. 12th, 2007 01:34 am
littlelotte: (Lindsay reading)
I'm not one for really commemorating much of anything, but somebody posted this quote in [livejournal.com profile] literaryquotes for today, and it's one of my favorite books, so I couldn't help but pass it on--because it was obviously a beautiful passage for decades before 9/11, even, and I would have re-posted it even if it had been posted in the middle of June. So, much love to those of you who have more of a mind for commemoration than I do, and to those who feel a specific turmoil that I've never quite been able to feel over this (tragedy, don't get me wrong...but I'm not as empathic as I once was, and don't really feel the inner trouble that many others do--six years later that day still doesn't feel anything but a little surreal to me. I doubt it will ever feel anything else, as I've never been to the city, so I wouldn't know it any other way than the first time I'll see it):

"I would give the greatest sunset in the world for one sight of New York's skyline. Particularly when one can't see the details. Just the shapes. The shapes and the thought that made them. The sky over New York and the will of man made visible. What other religion do we need? And then people tell me about pilgrimages to some dank pesthole in a jungle where they go to do homage to a crumbling temple, to a leering stone monster with a pot belly, created by some leprous savage. Is it beauty and genius they want to see? Do they seek a sense of the sublime? Let them come to New York, stand on the shore of the Hudson, look and kneel. When I see the city from my window - no, I don't feel how small I am - but I feel that if a war came to threaten this, I would throw myself into space, over the city, and protect these buildings with my body."

-Ayn Rand, The Fountainhead

Although, obviously, as an archaeologist I also see the sublime in those crumbling temples.
littlelotte: (Athena - Parthenon)
100% for me on the management part of the September secret shop. Win! It was the first time one of my stores got shopped while I was the manager on the floor.

I'm loving His Dark Materials, and I'm on the final book. Also, I bought another Italo Calvino book--If On a Winter's Night a Traveler...I can see he's going to be an addicting one. Essentially, this one is ten separate stories, all of which end at a moment of suspense, that "together...form a labyrinth of literatures, known and unknown, alive and extinct, through which two readers, a male and a female, pursue both the story lines that intrigue them and one another." Now that I can afford to again, I've gotten back in the habit of actually buying books. I like owning things more than borrowing them from a library. I like writing in the margins and highlighting too much ;-)

A couple of striking HDM quotes...

"We are all subject to the fates. But we must all act as if we are not...or die of despair."
--The Golden Compass

"What do you mean, a paleo-archaeologist? Archaeologists already study what's old; why do you need to put another word meaning 'old' in front of it?"
--The Subtle Knife (hehehehehehehehehe)

Also, this will just sound silly to most of you on my f'list, but some of you will get it. I feel like the gods are pushing me towards something, but I'm not sure what. It feels like it's supposed to be a more mystical turn, but I don't even know what I should be looking for or where to begin. The most mystical I've ever really gotten (except for my silly teenage Wicca days--yes you can laugh :-P) is my tarot deck--and admittedly, I do pretty well with it when I read for people. Unfortunately, I'm a little concerned attempting to use my deck to figure it out for myself, as I obviously have blinders on when it comes to myself and my life and what I would read in the deck in a reading for myself. I've been feeling like this since I got out to Sterling, actually, but I was too unsure to mention it before. Since then the feeling has just gotten more nagging. I find it difficult to try to figure it out through reading, as I am moving so much and don't have reliable access to libraries that would have the books I'd be looking for (and I don't even know what I should be looking for in the first place)...and nothing specific seems to be calling out to me at the moment. I am very lost and very confused and I know I'll have this hole until I figure it out...help? Dreams have given me clues that are either very obscure or I forget by the time I wake up. I'm pretty certain Hermes is behind it, though--it's pretty blatantly his energy and his "voice." Of course, I'm also not completely sure, as that could just be him acting as messenger for someone or something else entirely. Bah! I'm hoping mentioning it will bring something clearer to light.

Finally, Hendrick's Gin is awesome. Just awesome. If only I had a refrigerator to keep a cucumber in for it...

Now it is 1:30am and I work at 10am in the morning, probably until about nine or so. But I want to read more! But I must sleep. *pout*
littlelotte: (Lindsay reading)
...and because I really can't decide what to cut, it's rather long...

'It is truly not beyond her capacities to - to take an overdose and leave a letter accusing you - or me - of horrors, of insensitivity, of persecution -'

'Vengefulness can be seen for what it is. Spite and malice can be seen for what they are.'

'You have a robust confidence in human nature. And you simplify. The despair is as real as the spite. They are part of each other.'

'They are failures of imagination.'

'Of course,' says Gerda Himmelblau. 'Of course they are. Anyone who could imagine the terror - the pain - of those who survive a suicide - against whom a suicide is
committed - could not carry it through.'

Her voice has changed. She knows it has. Perry Diss does not speak but looks at her, frowning slightly. Gerda Himmelblau, driven by some pact she made long ago with accuracy, with truthfulness, says,

'Of course, when one is at that point, imagining others becomes unimaginable. Everything seems clear, and simple, and
single; there is only one possible thing to be done -'

Perry Diss says,

'That is true. You look around you and everything is bleached, and clear, as you say. You are in a white box, a white room, with no doors or windows. You are looking through clear water with no movement - perhaps it is more like being inside ice, inside the white room. There is only one thing possible. It is all perfectly clear and simple and plain. As you say.'


--A.S. Byatt, The Matisse Stories, "The Chinese Lobster"
littlelotte: (OR - Sam)
O Sam no, I could never walk away from you.


I just finished Only Revolutions and I'm a little bit heartbroken. It's one of a very small number of books that made me cry at the end. And I finished it in public and just wanted to sob. But obviously I couldn't. Seeing the bookmarks with nowhere else to go hurt a bit, too.

I obviously want to reread it, but I don't know how long it will take me before I can pick it up again.

And suddenly the world turned, warmed, and was worth it.


Now I get the inscription MZD wrote in my book. It was the perfect thing to see after I finished, at least. It made the fall (ha) a little bit easier to handle.


O Hailey no, I could never walk away from you.

And that which I can't believe I'm saying, and anybody should have known was coming...I adore this book. In fact, the book I was so terrified that I was going to be disappointed by has eclipsed House of Leaves.


...those Green eyes with flecks of Gold...

Love it...

Oct. 25th, 2006 11:45 pm
littlelotte: (Books - Read)
Found in [livejournal.com profile] literaryquotes:

Stories in six words
http://wired.com/wired/archive/14.11/sixwords.html
We'll be brief: Hemingway once wrote a story in just six words ("For sale: baby shoes, never worn.") and is said to have called it his best work. So we asked sci-fi, fantasy, and horror writers from the realms of books, TV, movies, and games to take a shot themselves.

Some personal favorites:

From torched skyscrapers, men grew wings.
- Gregory Maguire

With bloody hands, I say good-bye.
- Frank Miller

It cost too much, staying human.
- Bruce Sterling

Kirby had never eaten toes before.
- Kevin Smith

Nevertheless, he tried a third time.
- James P. Blaylock

He read his obituary with confusion.
- Steven Meretzky
littlelotte: (OR - Sam)
Not all is dead here. Thereupon a scorching ridge, flanks frosted, head lifted--my horse!...offering me his back mane and gallop off. Which I refuse. By holding onto Hailey. So leaving behind all of me. Higher on to alpine meadows--groves of powder...oblivious to all, to all promising oblivion. Hailey's my oblivion. For once. And allways. Beyond even Time's front. Because now We are out of time. We are at once.

I didn't even try to format that to the book, because I'm listening to the KGB Bar reading and did it from there.

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