Wednesday, February 15, 2006

When victims at yon altar's foot we lay?

Current Music: Copeland - When Finally Set Free


Dear fatal name! rest ever unreveal'd,
Nor pass these lips in holy silence seal'd.
Hide it, my heart, within that close disguise,
Where mix'd with God's, his lov'd idea lies:
O write it not, my hand — the name appears
Already written — wash it out, my tears!
In vain lost Krista weeps and prays,
Her heart still dictates, and her hand obeys.


Anything not needed anytime. . . soon, i guess. It can wait. Too much stress right now. I just want to deal with it anymore.

Scarcely containing other things there. . . anger, shame, pain, so on so forth

Actually, keeping in my. . . emotions, loneliness, needing, so on so forth

House of Leaves makes me kinda want to hide messages in some of my sentences.
I will never find out everything in this book.

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