I Am By Nature An Optimist And By Intellectual Conviction A Pessimist.

I am by nature an optimist and by intellectual conviction a pessimist.

William Golding (born on this day in 1911)

Don’t trust anyone.

Leon Bridges shot by Rog Walker for Paper Monday.

Lying on my bed, I was reading French With the light too bright for my senses From this hiding place life was way too much It was loud and rough round the edges So I faced the wall when an old man called Out of dreams that I would die there But a sight unseen, you were pulling strings You had a different idea I was like a child, I was light as straw And my father lifted me up there Took me to a place where they checked my body My soul was floating in thin air I clung to the bed and I clung to the past I clung to the welcome darkness But at the end of the night there's a green green light It's the quiet before the madness There was a girl that sang like the chime of a bell And she put out her arm, she touched me when I was in hell When I was in hell Someone sang a song and I sang along Cause I knew the words from my childhood Intellect, ambition they fell away And they locked me up for my own good But I didn't mind, cause the silence was kind It spoke to me in whispers There was the sound of the wind and the cold cold dawn And the quiet hum of business Let me dangle awhile in this waiting room I don't need to go, I don't need to know what you're doing Know what you're doing Lying on my side you were half awake And your face was tired and crumpled If I had a camera I'd snap you now Cause there's beauty in every stumble We are out of practice we're out of sight On the edge of nobody's empire And if we live by books and we live by hope Does that make us targets for gunfire? Now I look at you, you're a mother of two You're a quiet revolution Marching with the crowd, singing dirty and loud For the people's emancipation Did I do okay, did I pave the way? Was I strong when you were wanting? I was tied to the yoke with a decent bloke Who was stern but never daunting And he told me to push and he made me feel well He told to me to leave that vision of hell to the dying Oh to the dying

–  Nobody’s Empire    |     Belle & Sebastian

So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald (b. 24 Sept 1896)