The Noble Savage. My hero. He's the protagonist. The martyr. The manifest of good.
Kill him, he has no use here.
I'd be the assassin as much as I'd be an ally. I just can't keep my pretenses in order. So I don't think I'd get the job done right. I'm waking from a brutal sleep, a sleep I chose. For what reason? I don't know. I'm alive. And I can't bear to tie my shoes.
"I'm serving time all for a crime I did commit. You want the truth, you know I'd do it all again."
I have dreams & hopes, but the way I'm living they're relegated to so much sewage. Just flush it, I feel like.
We're all in the gutter, after all... but some of us are looking up their skirts. - Listless Reg Syndrome
Ceux qui ont apparié notre vie à un songe ont eu de la raison...Nous veillons dormants et veillants dormons. -Montaigne
Intro
O full-orb'd moon, did but thy rays
Their last upon mine anguish gaze!
Beside this desk, at dead of night,
Oft have I watched to hail thy light:
Then, pensive friend! o'er book and scroll,
With soothing power, thy radiance stole!
In thy dear light, ah, might I climb,
Freely, some mountain height sublime,
Round mountain caves with spirits ride,
In thy mild haze o'er meadows glide,
And, purged from knowledge-fumes, renew
My spirit, in thy healing dew!
Goethe: Faust I.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
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