In my first and fairly compromising days, my dad had a proposal which I mull now and again. “If you want to start criticizing,” my dad said, “just think on how your ups aid you, which most don’t own...”
...And as I sat, brooding on an old, unknown world, I thought of Gatsby’s fascination on his first sight of an avocado light at that brink of Daisy’s dock. It was a long road to attain this midnight lawn, and his long-sought fantasy was just about to touch his digits. But it was trailing him, lost in that vast obscurity, not in a city, but in dark plains of our country, rolling on into night.
Gatsby had a trust of that avocado light, the orgastic outlook that day by day runs from us. It confounds us now, but that won’t always occur- tomorrow all of us shall run briskly, strain our arms to go yon... And, on a morning—
So all of us shall go on. Boats against aquatic worlds, thrown back continuously into our past.