Our House

I’ll start the fire,
While you place the flowers in the vase that you bought today.
Our House, by Crosby, Still, Nash & Young.

I first came across this song in an episode of How I Met Your Mother. I think it is beautiful in its simplicity. I love the lyrics and have taken to listening to it on repeat.

Our house. Is a very, very, very fine house.


The Past is sticky and gooey and almost impossible to get rid of. That is the problem. The Past haunts.

And the Heart. It is a problem too. It threatens to bleed to death (but that is just emotional blackmail). It demands that you pay attention to its demands. It is a willful child.

I don’t quite know what to say now.


I read The Great Gatsby.

Poor Gatsby, who thought that the past can be retrieved and relived, who believed that it is possible to start over.

It makes me sad.

Poor Gatsby.


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