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May. 31st, 2001 05:35 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
grindmonkehI spoke briefly with my sister last night before coming to work, and she says her apartment is all mine at the first of July. MINE. She may even give/sell/loan me her computer desk too. That would be damn nice. I'm debating on selling my bar. It is really nice and I like it a lot, but it capacitates a fairly large area. I've procrastinated on finishing the terrarium built into the front of it for so long that it has evaded my agenda. I actually wouldn't mind replacing all my furniture. Not with new...with different. Moving is opportunistic of stripping away nonessential possessions. It's time to start weeding out the weak.
An entry by HighLearn reminded me of a book of Poe's writings that I have. I paged to this composition first.
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were-I have not seen
As others saw-I could not bring
My passoins from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I lov'd I, I lov'd alone.
Then-in my childhood-in the dawn
Of a most stomry life-was drawn
From ev-ry depth of good and ill
THe mystery which binds me still:
From teh torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold-
From teh lightning int eh sky
As it pass'd me flying by-
From teh thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
I have empathized with it since my ooold friend Tom first shared it with me. I miss that pfffuckhead...he could always crack me up.
An entry by HighLearn reminded me of a book of Poe's writings that I have. I paged to this composition first.
From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were-I have not seen
As others saw-I could not bring
My passoins from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I lov'd I, I lov'd alone.
Then-in my childhood-in the dawn
Of a most stomry life-was drawn
From ev-ry depth of good and ill
THe mystery which binds me still:
From teh torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold-
From teh lightning int eh sky
As it pass'd me flying by-
From teh thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
I have empathized with it since my ooold friend Tom first shared it with me. I miss that pfffuckhead...he could always crack me up.