"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.

Tuesday, August 31, 2004

you don't hold me anymore... i saw you're face and i don't give a rat's ass! but i just saw you last weekend, and i got so weak in the knees... but i swear, the next time i see you again... i'll walk right past you like nothing was there...

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