Judy Garland, "Me And My Shadow"

In his odes John Keats eulogizes the immediacy of emotions.
Pleasure, joy and melancholy go hands in hands,
and there is merely a translucent film blocking each compartment which enables the fairy of sentiments to skid liltingly in-between, gently tapping them with her sparkler.

It is both importunate and inexplicable,
of how instant a transformation can take place of a person's temperament.
In the blink of an eye she is both evil and angelic.
Wallowing merrily in the mud like a pig but the frill of her subtly-made dress reminds her of her extravagant past,
and she is duly aggravated.

You and your shadow.
You are fretted about it always tagging along you so you trample it,
with repugnance you trample.
But it is with little wonder of the impossibility of casting off your shadow,
so you learn to accept it and include it in your life,
even when it can be the major culprit for your incident of caught-red-handed.

Sometimes things are trapped in a web of intricacy that they can never be fully solved,
or fully explained,
so you convince yourself that the only resolution is to accept the fact.

Sounds like a mantra for the Lost Generation,
isn't it slightly sheepish to accept everything that comes in your face instead of taking resolute actions?
You are slightly baffled when the kid on your knees asks you this question, wide-eyed.
But the words flow out of your mouth, intuitively with no staccatos,
"and this is how we all live."

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"One generation passeth away, and another generation cometh; but the earth abideth forever."- Ecclesiastes

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Musings. Ex Libris

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