"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.

Monday, August 29, 2005

semi-semi kal...

number 6, you saved me... i was on the brink of insane frustration, yet you found a way. and i like the way you make me look. there you were... your usual polyurethiane lilac self, and then you touched me... and i never knew you could do such wonders. i like it... no, wait, i love it! i'm loving it! really loving it! you keep it close to home. and i think, that's the way it should be. don't you? you are in my mind. imprinted. will see you in about 3 weeks or so... my therapy for the broken crown. - a tribute to razor number 6

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