Whoodeedoo

Stally quoted me. Great job there. Oh and I feel the need to kick somebody in the head largely because I have developed a sore throat. Should have known, I'm not even studying for Chinese and I'm getting a sore throat. This is so ridiculous.

Speak not of brighter, hopeful days, no

not when winter holds sunlight at bay

and warm kisses harden upon glacial snow

as breath chills-- embraces lost to slow decay

So I write and I wrench the little bit of literature I still have left in me. The magic's gone I tell you. All I can write now is prose, and not even splendid prose. I would give you my vision in words if I could, but I cannot. You must come into my mind, it will open for you and you shall speak life. I am long tired of summer days. Winter is the spirit of sleep, and in slumber do our bodies past and our essence go.

C'est tout.