Did my fellows play at half life? Did those that I hold most dear to my bossom go down to city dark, play at PC games until the birth of Sol did wipe away their game filled eyes with desire for sleep? Oh to be with them in their quest for escaped pleasures of the night.
With thoughts of tedium removed, like thorns plucked from flesh, by the deeds of freindship. Yet I find that such tedium is the result of ones hart straining to be at places other then where it is. And I find less and less of that, like seeing the sun's visiage coming through some vaporus ether. The tedium being reborn as pleasure, as sublimity, offering my spirit a new fimrness on which to stand. These last three years have been some fantastical jounrey, like Aeneas, fleeing the burning Troy, across distressing seas tossed up by gods who wished him ill, only to find himself the layer of the cornerstones of the city of Rome.
So I have struggled to see my life transformed from one thing into another, all the time, not knowing the form it was to take.