I think this anxious/depressive state that I have been in is begining to break. I would like to thank each and everyone of you who were there for me during my little whining, cry baby fest. Thank you.
The Human Seasons
FOUR Seasons fill the measure of the year; There are four seasons in the mind of man: He has his lusty Spring, when fancy clear Takes in all beauty with an easy span: He has his Summer, when luxuriously Spring’s honey’d cud of youthful thought he loves To ruminate, and by such dreaming high Is nearest unto heaven: quiet coves His soul has in its Autumn, when his wings He furleth close; contented so to look On mists in idleness—to let fair things Pass by unheeded as a threshold brook. He has his Winter too of pale misfeature, Or else he would forego his mortal nature
John Keats (1795–1821).
Saturday, February 11, 2006
PARENTS: BE WARNED: This blog is run by an ADULT and I CANNOT guarantee that every post will be suitable for children under the age of 18.