June 2012
3 posts
You common cry of curs! whose breath I hate
As reek o’ the rotten fens, whose loves I prize
As the dead carcasses of unburied men
That do corrupt my air, I banish you;
And here remain with your uncertainty!
Let every feeble rumour shake your hearts!
Your enemies, with nodding of their plumes,
Fan you into despair! Have the power still
To banish your defenders; till at length
Your ignorance, which finds not till it feels,...
I've already said enough today.
“I’d rather burn and die alone than feel the weight of unjust feelings and the burdens of other’s unhappiness. It’s weird how we feel the same, you of me; me of someone else. I guess the world isn’t perfect, and I am not perfect in it. From this day I will keep shut and words won’t escape these fragile thoughts that turn into air. To burn and turn to stone, to...
