Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Friday, September 25, 2009
every single moment with her was like
u know
the way i wanted to feel all my life
knowing that i cud make her laugh
even for 1 second made me feel proud abt myself in a way i never had
before this moment, i believed i was the strongest person i had ever known
before this moment, i believed nothing could break me
i believed that with her our life wud always be a sunny day
i belived that i cudnt love anyone so much
not anymore
u know
the way i wanted to feel all my life
knowing that i cud make her laugh
even for 1 second made me feel proud abt myself in a way i never had
before this moment, i believed i was the strongest person i had ever known
before this moment, i believed nothing could break me
i believed that with her our life wud always be a sunny day
i belived that i cudnt love anyone so much
not anymore
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Monday, August 03, 2009
The Moving Finger writes, and having writ,
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,
Nor all your tears wash out a Word of it.
Here with a little bread beneath the Bough,
A Flask of Wine, A Book of Verse--and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness--
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!
Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit
Of This and That endeavor and dispute;
Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape
Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.
Oh, Thou, who Men of baser Earth didst make,
And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake:
For all the Sin the Face of Wretched Man
Is black with-Man's forgiveness give--and take!
And much as Wine has played the Infidel,
And robbed me of my Robe of Honor--Well,
I often wonder what the Vintner's buy
One half so precious as the wares they sell.
-The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
Moves on: nor all your Piety nor Wit
Shall lure it back to cancel half a line,
Nor all your tears wash out a Word of it.
Here with a little bread beneath the Bough,
A Flask of Wine, A Book of Verse--and Thou
Beside me singing in the Wilderness--
Oh, Wilderness were Paradise enow!
Waste not your Hour, nor in the vain pursuit
Of This and That endeavor and dispute;
Better be jocund with the fruitful Grape
Than sadden after none, or bitter, Fruit.
Oh, Thou, who Men of baser Earth didst make,
And ev'n with Paradise devise the Snake:
For all the Sin the Face of Wretched Man
Is black with-Man's forgiveness give--and take!
And much as Wine has played the Infidel,
And robbed me of my Robe of Honor--Well,
I often wonder what the Vintner's buy
One half so precious as the wares they sell.
-The Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam
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