Christas season = more spammers
Christas season = more spammers
The Moments of Dominion
That happen on the Soul
And leave it with a Discontent
Too exquisite — to tell —
-Emily Dickinson
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TVW8GCnr9-I
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ckGIvr6WVw4
Thinking, how did last night make me feel so old? Yet so content.
I tried to live in my imagination. It was fun. Didn't let me down. However it has now, JUST BECAUSE I KNOW I CAN'T FLY, DOESN'T MEAN I CAN'T DREAM OF IT!!
For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?Eliot
thinking about tomorrow...angst!!!!
"But do you really, seriously, Major Scobie," Dr. Sykes asked, "believe in hell?"
"In flames and torment?""Oh, yes, I do."
"That sort of hell wouldn't worry me," Fellowes said."Perhaps not quite that. They tell us it may be a permanent sense of loss."
"Perhaps you've never lost anything of importance," Scobie said.
Originally Posted by Haunted
Thinking I shouldn't be drinking this early into the day.... But what the hey!
I wish I could join you!
Thinking I shouldn't be drinking this early into the day.... But what the hey!
"But do you really, seriously, Major Scobie," Dr. Sykes asked, "believe in hell?"
"In flames and torment?""Oh, yes, I do."
"That sort of hell wouldn't worry me," Fellowes said."Perhaps not quite that. They tell us it may be a permanent sense of loss."
"Perhaps you've never lost anything of importance," Scobie said.
Thinking should raise our glasses together and celebrate a perfect outcome for tomorrow.
^ ahh I'll drink to that! Thanzz!
"But do you really, seriously, Major Scobie," Dr. Sykes asked, "believe in hell?"
"In flames and torment?""Oh, yes, I do."
"That sort of hell wouldn't worry me," Fellowes said."Perhaps not quite that. They tell us it may be a permanent sense of loss."
"Perhaps you've never lost anything of importance," Scobie said.
Welcome sweetpea.
The wandering child came back
It is amazing how your friends always come to you for help. I love being the only one somebody can depend on, ignoring the fact that it is only because nobody else knows what is going on.
Today is a very significant day. Mostly becasue it is the day of the WEBMAIL MAINTENANCE!! I deleted everything though, didn't I? Yes I'm sure I did. I deleted my inbow, my outbox, my sentbox, savebox... Did I delete the DELETEBOX?! Yes... No... Yes... Yes, I did. Stop trying to confuse me.
It is also amazing how much trouble friends can cause. If only I was spiteful and hypocritical, well, moreso than I already am... What anarchy there could be. I'm nice though. Darn... I hate being nice... No fun...
For I have known them all already, known them all:
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons,
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
So how should I presume?Eliot
I am a giant failure. Just, terrible.
I'm weary with right-angles, abbreviated daylight,
Waiting for a winter to be done.
Why do I still see you in every mirrored window,
In all that I could never overcome?
I'm thinking that *Classic*Charm* is being too hard on herself...because as well as I know her, she is far from a failure.
Les Miserables,
Volume 1, Fifth Book, Chapter 3
Remember this, my friends: there are no such things as bad plants or bad men. There are only bad cultivators.
That one was a joking failure haha. Though it might become a literal failure tomorrow. We'll see. Thanks though!
I'm weary with right-angles, abbreviated daylight,
Waiting for a winter to be done.
Why do I still see you in every mirrored window,
In all that I could never overcome?
Bridges crossed cannot be uncrossed, but wings of imagination can take you back to cross them again.
Les Miserables,
Volume 1, Fifth Book, Chapter 3
Remember this, my friends: there are no such things as bad plants or bad men. There are only bad cultivators.
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