Annals of Accumulated Arcana

A winding path through the catacombs of my mind

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"SHE is foremost of those that I would hear praised.
I have gone about the house, gone up and down
As a man does who has published a new book,
Or a young girl dressed out in her new gown,
And though I have turned the talk by hook or crook
Until her praise should be the uppermost theme,
A woman spoke of some new tale she had read,
A man confusedly in a half dream
As though some other name ran in his head.
She is foremost of those that I would hear praised.
I will talk no more of books or the long war
But walk by the dry thorn until I have found
Some beggar sheltering from the wind, and there
Manage the talk until her name come round.
If there be rags enough he will know her name
And be well pleased remembering it, for in the old days,
Though she had young men’s praise and old men’s blame,
Among the poor both old and young gave her praise.”

Yeats turns the age old maxim around to talk about the very thing I feel we all most desire. 

All monsters are human.

Painkillers ad nauseam. Does that even make grammatical sense?

After ages I was able to dream again. I saw my sister. A story strangely familiar, like I’ve seen it or read it somewhere before. But today morning I woke up with a smile. The truest smile I’ve seen in a very long while. 

"Beautiful things don’t ask for attention."

From the archives:

What brought us together might remain unspoken,
What held us together might be worn off and broken,
Then, if your way was different as I felt was mine,
Now I want our paths to cross, waiting for my time.

"Well I had a dream 
I stood beneath an orange sky 
Yes I had a dream 
I stood beneath an orange sky 
With my brother and my sister standing by 
With my brother and my sister standing by 
With my brother and my sister standing by”

Casus belli

"All I did was smile and smile and smile."

I’m worried and I miss you. :(