This is how I love you
I wish for a shade I can pull
I feel so afraid of watching you grow up
This love hurts too much
and I try to build a wall
so I don’t have to see you fall
and I pray
go away from my thoughts!

Are you enjoying that book? It wasn’t an odd question, nor even out of place, but it is usually me asking. Literature conversations during my commute, have, to date, been exclusively started by me. Not all of them are pointed tirades against that evil, lying, misanthropic witch Klein, it may suprise some to know.

Why do you keep coming back
over black sheep wall?

Was I enjoying the book I was reading? Of course I was. de Botton has a great writing style, a pleasure to read and provoking profound thoughts within. His style is witty and engaging, and I have laughed more than once in commuting company at passages. (…Seneca’s hyperbole continued…) Part history, mostly philosopy, human stories more than anecdotes, it is never boring nor a chore to wade through. He never ducks the hard topics, never dumbs them down, and brings it all to life with an evident personal joy.

Oh, I’d love to hold you close
but I play it cool
and keep my thoughts in a jar
marked “dangerous”
and everyone says, “never fear -
all the boys his age experiment with their lives,”
but all my eyes want to close you out
I’ll close you out

Was I enjoying the book I was reading? Of course I was. It was philosophy, and a romp through different philosophies. For example, I have always like old Schopenhauer, and his optimisitc depressive ramblings. I have always found Plato to be a bore and a boor. How anyone can enjoy his work, never mind respect ‘Repbulic’, is beyond me. Those who quote it invariably have never read it, as when quizzed, look at me blankly as if I were making it up.

Why do you keep coming back
over black sheep wall?

Was I enjoying the book I was reading? In a different way from Status Anxiety, although I would have a hard time choosing between them. In a different way from some of the drier tomes I read. Alas I missed out on the lecture he gave to the Cambridge-Town Platonists a few months ago (I did have an invite as well) as I would have loved to have went. I can also state I have never seen any of his televisual output, and was unaware of it until I perused his intertubes site.

Brother black sheep, love is strong
there’s a shepherd out in every storm
and he’s not afraid of a little rain
why am I?
why do I keep building up
this black sheep wall?
oh, I love you so
do you really want to know how much?
how deep?

Was I enjoying the book I was reading? Very much so, almost as much as I enjoyed relating this to the gentleman opposite me on the train. Even when he gave a wry laugh at my pronounciation of certain Dead White Guys’ names. Names I don’t think I have ever heard spoken, so as per-usual, I go with what was in my head. His gentle corrections were appreciated, as I won’t make those mistakes again. His funny interjections expanding my knowledge were encouraged, sparkling conversation sticks in the memory.

Black sheep, this is how I love you:
with closed eyes
with turned back
with distance

I also enjoyed our chat.

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