Thursday, April 28, 2011


There are black things, there are white things. There are beautiful things, ugly things, serene things, throbbing things. Sad things and happy things.
Straightforward things, secret things and two-faced things.
There are things we share, there are just things of ours.
There are filthy things, dark things, things in disguise. There are all the things Italian. There are all living things on earth. There are you-poor-things and you-precious-things. 
There are little things and big things. There are the first things that come to our minds and the only things that are left to do. There are things that have one thing in common.
There are things that we have a thing for and things that don't work out. There are things that are on to a good thing.
There are things that lead to another things. There are things inside and things outside.

There are things that are just THE thing. There are things that are just one of those things. 

But all of these are my things. 
Your things.
His things.
Her things. 
Our things.
Your things.
Their things.

But I know only about my things. You usually don't get my things. And I don't get your things, though you tell me about them so that I can say I can relate, believing that I really do.
But things make us. We're made of things.

Do I get my own things? Probably not. Probably that's just another way of saying "Imagine us complexly". Or "I'm confused". Either way.

(I don't even know if this song hasn't already been a song of the day on here but it just speaks really strongly to me lately. Meaning, yes, it's on loop.)

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