There there

       There are sensations no less intense for being vague, and the study of beauty is one in which the artiest shrieks with terror before being overcome. This sums up certain sentiments made by a man hundreds of years before my birth, yet I feel them as intensely as if he had spoken them to me in person. To have more in common with the dead than the living, I think he felt that too.

     There is some solace in solitude, in the practice of a gift no other can see but you. The hidden meaning behind most things bends itself back and shares a light it sheds on few others. Though no manner of describing can help lend this view point to anyone, it is beyond words, without thought. Some would call this near enlightenment, others might dub it a server mental disorder. In any case it is something that must be bore with gratitude and reverence. The price a poet pays to cherish his remote talent.

     There there, there there. One pats his inner child on the back and tells him that everything is alright. “ You can go out and play, the world is waiting for you.”