You. I miss you. That's entirely my own fault, of course. I just came over here to your LJ for the first time in forever, and it felt like returning to a dear friend's house to visit and catch up on what's been happening... "what's been happening," of course, being your mind-blowingly beautiful writing.
And this is no exception. I loved reading it right now, because I discovered the loveliest cemetery just around the corner from my apartment, full of trees and flowers and quiet corners to sit in and singing birds and prowling half-wild cats and the mortal remains of Bertolt Brecht and his wife Helene. I've been walking around the cemetery lately ("Friedhof" – literally, "courtyard of peace" – is the German word for cemetery), looking at every grave in turn, meditating on the people with huge grand graves, and also the people whose families couldn't afford a grave at all, but just planted a few flowers in their assigned plot. It got me reflecting, musing, feeling peaceful and reminiscent.
no subject
And this is no exception. I loved reading it right now, because I discovered the loveliest cemetery just around the corner from my apartment, full of trees and flowers and quiet corners to sit in and singing birds and prowling half-wild cats and the mortal remains of Bertolt Brecht and his wife Helene. I've been walking around the cemetery lately ("Friedhof" – literally, "courtyard of peace" – is the German word for cemetery), looking at every grave in turn, meditating on the people with huge grand graves, and also the people whose families couldn't afford a grave at all, but just planted a few flowers in their assigned plot. It got me reflecting, musing, feeling peaceful and reminiscent.
So, reading this made me smile.