In the time of your life, live—so that in that good time there shall be no ugliness or death for yourself or for any life your life touches. Seek goodness everywhere, and when it is found, bring it out of its hiding place and let it be free and unashamed.
Place in matter and in flesh the least of the values, for these are the things that hold death and must pass away. Discover in all things that which shines and is beyond corruption. Encourage virtue in whatever heart it may have been driven into secrecy and sorrow by the shame and terror of the world. Ignore the obvious, for it is unworthy of the clear eye and the kindly heart.
Be the inferior of no man, or of any men be superior. Remember that every man is a variation of yourself. No man's guilt is not yours, nor is any man's innocence a thing apart. Despise evil and ungodliness, but not men of ungodliness or evil. These, understand. Have no shame in being kindly and gentle but if the time comes in the time of your life to kill, kill and have no regret.
In the time of your life, live—so that in that wondrous time you shall not add to the misery and sorrow of the world, but shall smile to the infinite delight and mystery of it.
– William Saroyan, The Time Of Your Life
We quit. Now we’re poor. Indie?
Poor. Inspired, though, and we’re off.
We’ll need to make it sing and it’s time to go.
Come if you’re coming and leave the name tag.
We need to drive all night and swerve to miss a deer.
We need natural light and consequences.
We need to break appointments and fight friends, change tickets, finally forget someone, make the room spin, bleed into the sand and sleep there too. We need to publish. We need not to straighten out.
We need to play our anthems and listen and really try but be sad when they just don’t bring that feeling anymore, then find new anthems with new feelings. We need to choose between wine and dinner and make it work without a corkscrew. We need to have trouble with the law. We need to run out of gas, kick addictions, eat steak alone, negotiate, put ink in our arms and remember what the words mean, skate poorly but go fast. We need to frame our hate mail.
We need to lose a fin and stay out longer. We need to get pickpocketed. We need to sleep naked under a ceiling fan, clothed on a bus. We need to be scared but not pull back, and swallow water, and tip generously. We need to need booties, roof racks, aspirin and a wire transfer. We need to show up alone, accept apologies and invitations, not respond mad, listen to old men, drink fine burning scotch and the cheapest red and never lie to seem friendly. We need to change our wax. We need any and all crippling sadness to have a distinct source, a female source, and not let it just be the descending fog of life-size regret. We need today to finish abruptly. We need to take notes.
We need discomfort because it slows things down when things are speeding, which they are. We need to be seasick. We need to be wrong. We need to get stitches and sore legs. We need to read about war, take photographs that won’t be seen, stop hoarding and speak less. We need to surf.
We quit, we’re poor, we need to do this now. We need to do what youth does.
— What Youth
Someone to hold me too close.
Someone to hurt me too deep.
Someone to sit in my chair,
And ruin my sleep,
And make me aware,
Of being alive.
Somebody need me too much.
Somebody know me too well.
Somebody pull me up short,
And put me through hell,
And give me support,
For being alive.
Make me alive.
Make me alive.
Someone you have to let in
Someone whose feelings you spare
Someone who, like it or not
Will want you to share
A little, a lot...
Someone to crowd you with love
Someone to force you to care
Someone to make you come through
Who'll always be there, as frightened as you
Of being alive
Being alive, being alive, being alive
Somebody hold me too close
Somebody hurt me too deep
Somebody sit in my chair
And ruin my sleep
And make me aware
Of being alive, being alive
Make me confused.
Mock me with praise.
Let me be used.
Vary my days.
Somebody crowd me with love.
Somebody force me to care.
Somebody let me come through,
I'll always be there,
As frightened as you,
To help us survive,
– Being Alive, Stephen Sondheim
"One day, in retrospect, the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful."
― Sigmund Freud