The Fairest of the Seasons

Now that it’s time, now that the hour hand is landed at the end,
Now that it’s real, now that the dreams have given all they had to lend,
I want to know:
Do I stay or do I go? And maybe try another time?
And do I really have a hand in my forgetting?

Now that I’ve tried, now that I’ve finally found that this is not the way,
Now that I’ve turned, now that I feel it’s time to spend the night away,
I want to know
Do I stay or do I go? And maybe finally split the rhyme?
And do I really understand the under netting?

Yes, and the morning has me looking in your eyes and seeing mine,
Warning me to read the signs Carefully

Now that it’s now, now that the canvits falling smaller in my mind,
Now that its here, now that I’m almost not so very far behind,
I want to know:
Do I stay or do I go? And maybe fall another sigh?
And do I really have a song that I can ride on?

Now that I can, now that it’s easy ever easy all around,
Now that I’m near, now that I’m falling to the sunlights and to song,
I want to know:Do I stay or do I go? And do I have to do just one?
And can I choose again if I should lose the reason?

Yes, and the morning has me looking in your eyes and seeing mine,
Warning me to read the signs
More carefully!

Now that I smile, now that I’m laughing even deeper in this sigh,
Now that I see, Now that I’ve finally found the one thing I’d like
It’s now I know:
That do I stay or do I go. And it is finally I decide,
That I’d be leaving in the fairest of the seasons.

--Jackson Browne

sitting on my couch, surrounded by the smells of illness, trying to pick myself up out of the literal gut renching that has torn my throat bloody and just in general terrorized my body -by listening to the dandy warhols. They aren't doing half bad either. Im feeling so bohemian like you.

sickness to me brings memories. memories of me being sick when i was young. memories of other people having been sick. it was this train of thought that brought me to remember that yesterday it was 3 years since my poppy died, and that in january it'll be 10 years since grandma. John travolta said it nicely yesterday on television... you never get over it, but you get to a point where instead of hurting- you're missing them.

I guess thats where I am now, in many ways. With my grandparents, with some of my friends who dont call or email like I wish they would. Instead of hurting and crying sunday nights... i've just moved on to a different way of feeling. Somethings are just distractions.

if i'd only thought of something charming to say
something that would make it all go my way
one word to make you change your mind and stay
i wonder as sickness turns my blue eyes grey.