pixel39: (Default)
At her fair hands how have I grace entreated
With prayers oft repeated!
Yet still my love is thwarted:
Heart, let her go, for she'll not be converted--
Say, shall she go?
O no, no, no, no, no!
She is most fair, though she be marble-hearted.

How often have my sighs declared my anguish,
Wherein I daily languish!
Yet still she doth procure it:
Heart, let her go, for I can not endure it--
Say, shall she go?
O no, no, no, no, no!
She gave the wound, and she alone must cure it.

But shall I still a true affection owe her,
Which prayers, sighs, tears do show her,
And shall she still disdain me?
Heart, let her go, if they no grace can gain me--
Say, shall she go?
O no, no, no, no, no!
She made me hers, and hers she will retain me.

But if the love that hath and still doth burn me
No love at length return me,
Out of my thoughts I'll set her:
Heart, let her go, O heart I pray thee, let her!
Say, shall she go?
O no, no, no, no, no!
Fix'd in the heart, how can the heart forget her?
pixel39: (moonA)
Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year's bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide!

There are a hundred places where I fear
To go, -- so with his memory they brim!
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face
I say, "There is no memory of him here!"
And so stand stricken, so remembering him!
pixel39: (moonA)
Kiss me, though you make believe;
Kiss me, though I almost know
You are kissing to deceive:
Let the tide one moment flow
Backward ere it rise and break,
Only for poor pity's sake!

Give me of your flowers one leaf,
Give me of your smiles one smile,
Backward roll this tide of grief
Just a moment, though, the while,
I should feel and almost know
You are trifling with my woe.

Whisper to me sweet and low;
Tell me how you sit and weave
Dreams about me, though I know
It is only make believe!
Just a moment, though 'tis plain
You are jesting with my pain.

Lyrics...

Jun. 3rd, 2005 09:26 am
pixel39: (Default)
Cut, love... )
pixel39: (Default)
Well, sort-of. I'm wearing a camisole that has a built-in bra, and as [livejournal.com profile] queenfrizzle can attest, it's really quite built-in. I swear it would pass a punch test for rapier. Also, it makes me look like I have more chest than I do, because, for some unfathomable reason, it's padded. But at least today's shirt isn't sliding off my shoulders every which way.

Still trying very hard not to think.

C'est moi!

May. 16th, 2005 02:56 pm
pixel39: (Default)
This is me doing useful productive work. No, really.

This is me working on my Java, because I have noticed that putting the book on top of the laptop does not get the programming done through osmosis or anything useful like that.

This is me with a new motorcycle jacket that fits me properly. *bike lust*

This is me with bottles and bottles of drink syrup (including the pomegranate almost-toffee) and lots and lots of bunny and chicken for Quest.

This is me with two new micro-sheep, who although extremely cute aren't terribly helpful with the lawn. But, now I have livestock. *g*

This is me wanting to rip out my reproductive system. After 800mg of ibuprofen.

This is me wanting a nap. And a motorcyle. And a pony.

*sigh*

May. 12th, 2005 10:13 am
pixel39: (Default)
Not only can I not stop thinking, I can't stop dreaming. Dammit.
pixel39: (Default)
Someone listened to my lament, if I had a lament, and they opened a new Sweet Celebrations storefront within easy striking distance of work (as opposed to, say, Furthest Maplewood or Darkest Burnsville). Unfortunately it is in the same plaza as a Hancock, and as Skeins. And a Pier 1. And Lunds (with its accompanying olive bar).

Luckily I have iron will. And nowhere to put stuff. And no money.

I have marzipan fruit molds now, and some nifty dusts, and more almond paste. But I can't play with them until after Quest.

And I have a salad. I have been reminded that in some situations my body interprets hunger pangs the same way as it does the emotional equivalent of being punched in the gut. Thus I have been feeling pretty much the same way all bloody day, and some of it apparently has been hunger pangs. Gah. Not fair. Not fair in the slightest. It is, however, different than "too upset to contemplate food without throwing up".

*sigh*

May. 8th, 2005 12:18 pm
pixel39: (driftwood)
Well, I was going to post a summary of the past week, but ChooChoo and LJ ate it. Don't wanna type it in again.

Anyway.

Being too upset to eat much of anything does mean you lose weight. I've lost five pounds so far that I know of, since Tuesday night.

Seeing family, including the uncle and one of the step-cousins, was good, even though the circumstances weren't the best. The distraction helped a lot, if only temporarily.

Driving into the sun can give one sunburn. Luckily I realized this before it was too bad, and I do have sunblock in the car for exactly this sort of situation. So I'm a bit pinker than usual. *shrug*

Today, errands and figuring out what to do about the lawn, since the mower battery appears to have given up the ghost. *sigh*

I need miniature sheep.

Memage...

May. 7th, 2005 10:50 pm
pixel39: (Default)
Because I am trying to come up with ways to not actually think...

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth full sentence.
4. Post the text of the sentence in your journal along with these instructions.
5. Don't search around for the coolest book you can find. Use what's actually nearest to you.

"Wash the harvested roots well to remove not only the soil but also some of the less desirable yellow and brown pigments in the roots, which can dull dye colors."

Jenny Dean, Wild Color. Not that anyone should be at all surprised.
pixel39: (driftwood)
As rendered by the Kingston Trio

Green grow the lilacs, all sparkling with dew
Green grow the lilacs, and green is their hue
Each lilac of green, turns to one that is blue
Love, like the lilacs can change colors too.

I used to have a young love, as soft as the snow
In springtime and summer together we'd go
It's sad to the heart when your love is untrue
Like the green lilacs when they turn into blue.

Green grow the lilacs, all sparkling with dew
Green grow the lilacs, and green is their hue
Each lilac of green, turns to one that is blue
Love, like the lilacs can change colors too.

I'd pass my love's window both early and late
The look that she gives me would make your heart ache
Oh, the look that she gives me, it's painful to see
My love loves another much better than me

Green grow the lilacs, all sparkling with dew
Green grow the lilacs, and green is their hue
Each lilac of green, turns to one that is blue
Love, like the lilacs can change colors too.

Love, like the lilacs, can change colors too.
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