malenky devotchka

Bella Morte
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2003-10-15 01:08:39 (UTC)

there are places...

there is a little brook, in upstate new york, behind my
father's house, when i was eight, i was crossing over it
the morning before i left, when i fell in. it was during
winter and thinking childlike, i thought i could walk right
over it, but the ice was melting and i fell right in. and
all i could think about was how beautiful it would be to
die there, with cold clean water running over me, and all
this lovely nature about me, you know? i still remember how
it looked, with the snow creeping right up to edge and
freezing like some glass sculpture, and there were these
big trees whose ends i could not see, all bare and groping
the sky. and there was white all around, and nothing was
dirty, and everything was pure, the rocks were clean and
smooth and my feet kept slipping on them and i couldn't
stand up, all i could do was think about how friggin
peaceful and picturesque it looked.

" there are places i'll remember,
all my life-
though some have changed-" - Beatles