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The Death of Rimbaud

Got a letter from an Old Friend.

I wouldn’t say I have a crush on him exactly. I don’t think I’m capable of having crushes on people.

What I would say is that the romance of his life moves me in some profound sense. He’s Rimbaud. Not the youthful, beautiful, dangerous Rimbaud, but the middle-aged, resigned Rimbaud, working as a coffee and firearms dealer in Harar, all pretense of poetry abandoned.

In the back of my mind, I always maintain a list of People I Want to Travel With to the Far-Off Places of the World, and Old Friend ranks high on that list.

Rimbaud went on to die in a particularly horrible fashion, and I suppose that’s what happens to all people who were once beautiful and dangerous. If you want to die in your own bed, you have to take your boots off. And be happy about it.

###

In other news, the sun came out yesterday, so I forced myself to go on a longish tromp. It was freezing cold, and the wind was high, so I can’t say I enjoyed myself very much. But, hey! Ambient sunlight.

This entry was originally posted at http://mallorys-camera.dreamwidth.org/696953.html. You may leave comments on either Dreamwidth or LiveJournal if you like.

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( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
rosegardenfae
Feb. 13th, 2018 03:30 pm (UTC)

Glad you got out.  I've not left the house since Monday last, but tomorrow it's a must do. And wow the sun just came out...YES, hooray for sunlight!

mallorys_camera
Feb. 13th, 2018 03:37 pm (UTC)
I force myself to get out every day whether I want to or not.

In winter, "getting out" often means going to some other place that's inside, though. :-)
gushgush
Feb. 13th, 2018 06:50 pm (UTC)
If you want to die in your own bed, you have to take your boots off. And be happy about it.


mallorys_camera
Feb. 14th, 2018 11:59 am (UTC)
It's true! :-)
( 4 comments — Leave a comment )