"O shrieve me, shrieve me, holy man!"
The Hermit cross'd his brow.
"Say quick," quoth he, "I bid thee say—
What manner of man art thou?"

Forthwith this frame of mine was wrench'd
With a woful agony,
Which forced me to begin my tale;
And then it left me free.

Thursday, January 29, 2004

have you ever wondered how it is to look at yourself from your lover's eyes? that if you say that you love them so... can they say that they love you as much as you love them? not that i'm bitter or anything... but... it just occurred to me... that i am caught between the shadow of my lover, and the image of the one i love... what i do to the one who loves me... the one i love mirrors to me... unloved? yes.... maybe.... but how ironic it is that i long for him, and someone else longs for me the way i do to for the one i love... you may be getting confused here... but 'tis the true predicament that i am in... a conundrum, nevertheless, that i so resent... all i have to ask of him is to release me... just like someone else asked me to do so for him... i am but a fly trapped in a spider's web... caught in the maw of love's passing, depressed existence... loving, unloved... dead to my own life... angst...

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