eskimos and diversions

I tried to build an igloo out of orange peel but it kept falling down
and even when it stood up I didn't have an eskimo to put in it,
so I had to invent a story about 'How Eskimo Got Eaten',
which made me even more miserable.
It's always the same with diversions; you get involved.

la douleur exquise

Is the danger of beauty so great that it is better to live without it?

I remember many years ago, a windy night, ominous and important
as nights sometimes are when you are 17 and think you have all the answers.
We thought we created wisdom and wrote: "it is better to become ashes, than to never burn"
I still agree with my younger self.
There is something comforting in misery; the douleur exquise
that comes from unrequited love, betrayal, rejection.
The sweet bitterness that goes with longing for something that will never really be yours.

How long can you fight windmills before realizing that it is pointless?
How many times can you break 'til you are shattered?
and, how do you know when enough is enough?
When all you really want to do is to risk everything to win one last glorious game?

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