Tuesday, September 13, 2016

13 September 2016 (Tuesday)

Cracked open the new diary to maybe post something, but I still don't care. Same old same old today, although I was downtown all day so any breakdowns were held in check. The dam broke when I got home, of course.

Note: Need to use the later bus back because the last two times it's been crammed with approximately 10 million high school kids from Roosevelt. 

Appetite still at a low ebb. I barely choked down a scone for lunch, and didn't eat anything until dinner. It's just the actual act of eating isn't very pleasant. Not that I mind terribly, I could slim down a bit. There is literally no one I can even talk to about this. At least in detail, it is mine and mine alone. This is the only place where I've even mentioned that anything is wrong. 

A couple of lines from Poe's The Raven came to me while I was eating lunch:
Respite – respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore  
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!
"Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."
Nepenthe is a mythological drink that makes the user forget pain and sorrow. As you can imagine, that seems like a fairly noteworthy idea to me right now. 

After reading the following stanzas -- without breaking down since I was in public:
Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! – prophet still, if bird or devil! –
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted –
On this home by Horror haunted – tell me truly, I implore –
Is there – is there balm in Gilead? – tell me – tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."
 
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil – prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us – by that God we both adore –
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore –
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore."
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."
 
"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting –
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! – quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the Raven "Nevermore."
 
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted – nevermore!

I later had an epiphany about all that: It's not about a bird at all. The raven is an allegory for the poet's inability to let go of his anguish over the loss of Lenore. (I wrote that in my work notes so I wouldn't forget it). 


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