Best By Far

Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there’s no room for the present at all.

Evelyn Waugh (via arpeggia)

tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #440 by Tyler Knott Gregson
Text for Tired Eyes:
When did wishing stop workingor has it ever worked at all?Do we trick ourselves into believingthat the superstitions we hold on to also hold us back?When has wishing melted the snowor brought the rain or cleared the cloudsso the sun could shine again?When has wishing stopped your feet or turned you aroundor put the e the y the b the d and o and o and gback into your mouth in reverseand made you swallow them for once and forever?When has wishing made next time this timeand let you walk away with me?Where has all the salt gone that we’ve tossed over our shouldersand where will I find my cave that holds my pennies?Will I take them back?  Will I stop wishing?Maybe, just maybe it’s not the coming truethat matters and it’s not the momentsafter a candle is blown outbut the moment you try, with one breath andeyes closed tight to the world, to make smoke of so many flames.Maybe it’s the wishing and not the wishesthat matter, the unwavering hopethat your feet will stop and your back will turnand the o and the l and l and the e and the gorgeous Hwill find its way from your gorgeous lips in forwardsand make you shout them  for once and forever.Maybe, just maybe it’s the wishingand not the coming true that will finally make it bethat the next time you walk awayyou walk away with me.

tylerknott:

Typewriter Series #440 by Tyler Knott Gregson

Text for Tired Eyes:

When did wishing stop working
or has it ever worked at all?
Do we trick ourselves into believing
that the superstitions we hold on to also hold us back?
When has wishing melted the snow
or brought the rain or cleared the clouds
so the sun could shine again?
When has wishing stopped your feet or turned you around
or put the e the y the b the d and o and o and g
back into your mouth in reverse
and made you swallow them for once and forever?
When has wishing made next time this time
and let you walk away with me?
Where has all the salt gone that we’ve tossed over our shoulders
and where will I find my cave that holds my pennies?
Will I take them back?  Will I stop wishing?
Maybe, just maybe it’s not the coming true
that matters and it’s not the moments
after a candle is blown out
but the moment you try, with one breath and
eyes closed tight to the world, to make smoke of so many flames.
Maybe it’s the wishing and not the wishes
that matter, the unwavering hope
that your feet will stop and your back will turn
and the o and the l and l and the e and the gorgeous H
will find its way from your gorgeous lips in forwards
and make you shout them  for once and forever.
Maybe, just maybe it’s the wishing
and not the coming true that will finally make it be
that the next time you walk away
you walk away with me.