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Occasion, occasion and one more occasion. Periodically I think that my life is the result of random actions mixed together. But at the end of each occasion you see that it really makes sense. And it always made, makes and will make sense.







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The prying and pulling by outside forces were eroding any interior calm and control he had acquired and also made focus all the more difficult. Domestic life in a small apartment with toddlers and, all too often, a disapproving mother-in-law in residence was its own form of entrapment. By the end of 1948 Camus had stopped attempting to work at home and holed up after hours in his office at Gallimard, door locked, telephone off the hook. “The fight to the finish between my children and me ended to the former’s advantage. The victors at present occupy all the conquered territory and behave like all victors do, cynically,” he wrote to Grenier, attempting humor, evincing weariness and a slight sourness after an admittedly “heavy trimester” that had ended with the failure of his play. “Naturally I prefer that my plays be successful. But I also find a number of subtle satisfactions in a failure. Example: I have fewer appointments.”
—  Elizabeth Hawes, Camus, A Romance

Below is a poem I’d written a little over a year ago (March 25, 2018). This is the first poem I’d written in a long time. I was really pleased with how it turned out.
This poem is about someone I think the world of, someone who has my heart.

“Always and Forever”

I met you
and that was it
Everything just seemed to fit
I didn’t really believe in fate until I met you
I thought it was too good to be true

I’ve never loved anyone as I’ve loved you
And I’m pretty sure you feel the same way too
You’re patient and kind
Even when I think I’m going to lose my damn mind

With you, holding me tight
I look in your eyes
And it all feels right
You’re the peace to my chaos
The love of my life

You’re everything I’ve ever wanted
Everything I never knew I needed

I can see it so clearly now
Through the good times, and the bad
We’ll be hand in hand
Always and forever
You and me, together

“Always and Forever” will always be a special poem in my eyes. Not only was it written about someone I love, it reminds me of some of the happiest times in my life that I’ve shared with the person it’s about.

To those of you who’ve taken the time to read this: Thank you. I’m currently working on another poem, along with something else. I tend to be a perfectionist when it comes to writing. I’ll post those next two projects whenever I’m completely satisfied with them.

Rain

The thing I remember most is rain. The rain in that city was almost constant and it felt like at any moment you’d be washed away in one of the rushing floods that gathered in the corners of the streets, racing endlessly for the gutters.

But there was something peaceful about it, too. Some unearthly way the water spread out and coated the concrete and asphalt and sporadic patches of sun-starved grass that felt as if the rain was wreathing itself around the city – or maybe the world – in a large, thin hug. As if to remind us of the nearness of the elements we find to be so foreign whenever they aren’t asserting themselves, which is why, I suppose, they do so.

I’ve forgotten many things in the time between then and now, as I’ve learned many others. With the mill of people in shorts and thin shirts always milling about, shopping and taking photos, moving on to the next place before they’ve really even arrived at where they were headed before; with this comes the loss of a quietness, a simplicity of people content to sit and drink coffee as the rain pounds the windows outside. With the constant presence of the sun comes the loss of an ability to function when it disappears behind a stray cloud or, for this place foreign, rain. I find it funny how you can leave a place and leave so much of yourself there as well, as if waiting for the day you’ll go back. Ever-present as the rain in that city in which that older, maybe even truer version of me still exists.


- Caleb Crowley

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it’s wild remembering an event that was happening today that a year ago you would’ve moved heaven and earth to get to, only you didn’t today, and that opportunity will never happen again, probably, and you missed it but instead of inconsolable you’re just … empty.

here’s to trying to find the next thing that will make me feel the first, positive, bit.

to check it TF

some the singers at Cali roots be ass tbh sorry they can play better than me not sing tho like I could be up there I just ????????????? LOL . I JUST want to buy cute clothes and . like . yeah . idk a family . I don’t Wana be artist in tour an shit I’d rather be visiting . seems fun tho idk . meh . ambitions and goals cancelled for life :( but still manage to surface again in me constantly so much so that I know it’s better to just follow the outline and fill in the empty spots myself