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#and who knows maybe men wont love me after all and i will be unloved by God if i swear
frogathy · 7 months
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childhood was spent thinking i’d go to hell and men would not love me if i swore so now to heal from that i am swearing as much as i fucking can until i come to my own fucking conclusion about how i feel regarding the usage of such crude vocabulary
#it needs to be my own decision and understanding that i do not want to swear#not because other people Told Me it’s not ladylike or im going to go to hell if i do it#if i end up deciding hey you know what i really dont like swearing then Boom i actually have a reason other than guilt and shame#because i will have been able to feel something Other than guilt and shame when swearing. if that makes sense#like instead of being consumed by guilt and shame every time i swear or think about swearing#i am able to come to it without bias and understand for myself (without guilt and shame) why it is wrong or harmful#(or rather IF it is wrong or harmful. ive not comr to my conclusion yet but you can see i still have preconceived notions about it)#and who knows maybe men wont love me after all and i will be unloved by God if i swear#then so be it because ive never known a single thing in my life without someone else telling me#i just want to figure it out and understand for myself without someone holding my hand because im too stupid to come to my own conclusion#my parents put me in a classical school so i could learn to think critically but then have removed every chance for me to think critically#because they are afraid i will make the wrong decision (even though supposedly i have learned critical thinking™)#and they didnt do that intentionally of course. and this sounds resentful but i truly dont mean it that way#i LOVE my parents and the fact that they wanted to put money into giving us good education rather than just nice possessions#they have wonderful hearts and the best of intentions. but no parent is perfect and every single one will affect their kids in some way#whether they meant to or not. or maybe they did something with good intention without realizing the harmful outcome#every day i realize that individuation is an actual thing and its not just a montage in a disney movie#froegis meep tag
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blissedbaby · 1 month
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im trying so hard but its so difficult i dont know how to love i just wish im doing it right
if it comes naturally then that must be love right
if your natural instinct is to go out of your way for someone and care for them and spend time thinking about them when your apart
if you change bad habits within yourself because you want to be a good person for them
if you try and do things you find difficult because you want them to be happy and you want to get over your own fears too...
honestly ive always been so scared of love, growing up i never felt worthy of love and i always thought there was something wrong with me
i used to hide away in my room and think about all the things i was missing out on, all the things that i could experience if i was more attractive or more fun and interesting.
i never had a good perception of men growing up, (apart from my grandad) but growing up around my father and seeing how he treated me and my mum i always thought all men were that way, i decided around the age of 12 that not only was i unloveable but that i didnt want to be loved, growing up in the household i did, seeing how my dad loved my mum meant i was scared of love
when i was in my early teens i did always feel insecure, seeing all my schoolfriends get boyfriends and always talk about boys, i wasnt popular or pretty i was the funny girl, the girl people would always be "having a laugh with" but looking back i dont think that i was funny i think i was just a good person to have a laugh at
around 16 i decided that i could do better with myself, i dyed my hair dressed how i wanted to and actually learned how to apply makeup, obviously after this my experience as a teenage girl changed, people started to make fun of me less and i was actually treated like i was a human being by the girls at school who looking back seriously used to take the piss out of me
after this change though i actually felt worse than i did initially, although externally i may look different, internally i still have all of my old insecurities
i can never believe that im pretty or worthy of any type of romantic love, i blame my childhood for that
and the worst part
now that im experiencing in my vision, true love for the first time ever, i cant even come to accept it...
i guess maybe i just dont want to rush it, i know i tell him i love him, and i do, i love him so much more than he knows but at the same time i would wait years upon years for him to fully feel like he can love me back 100%, i hope i would make a good girlfriend and hopefully one day im deserving of that
i know he does care for me, and ive never known anyone like him ever ive never had the fortune to encounter anyone as fascinating and thoughtful and supportive as him
i wonder what i have done in a past life to be able to deserve this in this life, and i know its selfish to say but i love that i get to see a side of him thats rare to others, i feel like we were made for eachother
i hate crying infront of him, i dont want him to think im weak, but in so many ways i have to admit that i am, a small part of me is still that insecure 13 year old who always felt unworthy of love
i wish in the future i feel more secure within myself to not be so afraid and worried about things that wont happen
i love him, hes shown me things and feelings that i never thought i was capable of, and these 7 (almost 8) months have been the best of my life, im forever grateful for his presence in my life, thank you for healing me
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shipsandlattes · 3 years
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So I know everyone has already dissected this scene to its core, but it’s taken me a good 48 hours to digest this and I just needed to get it out.
I’m an aspiring actor, I’ve been training for a long time, with a lot of amazing teachers. I’ve watched a lot of shows and shipped a lot of couples. Some of them beautiful and canon, others, well, let’s just say waiting 22 years and counting for acknowledgement, closure, anything, it’s a damn challenge. I’ve seen a hell of a lot of will-they-wont-they’s, baiting, purposeful ignorance, deliberate fake outs, zero explanations, storylines that basically caused canon disintegration, the works.
In saying that, Dean and Cas were right up there on the list with the other “impossibles” because honestly, I didn’t think the writers would have the guts to do it, but I am so f*cking proud they did. It’s safe to say I’ve watched the scene a good hundred+ times already. 
I’ve seen a lot of “controversy” around Dean’s reaction/Jensen’s acting choices and whether or not Dean reciprocates Cas’ feelings, and obviously, I needed to add my own views to the mix.
Just work with me for a minute here.
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Dean Winchester is an emotionally repressed trainwreck, and ironically enough, the one that is so full of emotion it hurts to watch. When Cas first starts his speech, he’s confused, really confused because why on earth would Cas start off on a rant now? Billie’s waiting to kill them, he just said he knew something that was more powerful than she was, something that could save them. That’s where he thought this speech was going.
The confusion turns to realisation that it’s a goodbye when Cas starts telling him how incredible he is, how his entire essence is love. Go back and watch the scene again, when Cas says “you’re the most caring man on Earth”, you physically see Dean look down, his eyes searching, he’s actively trying to make sense of what’s happening, he knows what’s coming and you can see him coming to terms with the shock of the words being said to him. He then looks directly at Cas. That look, that was pure shock.
Also, notice how he doesn’t stop Cas from talking? He doesn’t interject, make a joke, doesn’t talk about how there is no time for this now, they’ve got to at least try and stop Billie. He. says. nothing. He listens, he listens like I’ve never seen Dean listen before. Because it’s sinking in now.
When Cas really starts crying, when he says “you changed me, Dean”, you can actually see the pain in Dean’s eyes. He’s no longer in control of his emotions, he’s crying too. He’s never seen Cas like this, so raw, and vulnerable and human. This is the hardest, most emotional conversation they’ve both ever had. They are talking about the one thing that everybody knows, but is never addressed. When it wasn’t talked about, they could deny it, live in the lie. Once it’s said aloud, it’s real and they can’t turn back.
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This above series of interactions is the part that kills me the most. The moment Cas says “because it is”, that’s the exact moment of realisation. Look at that last GIF, really look. He’s just worked it out, that he is Cas’ true happiness. He knows what’s coming before Cas even says it. Go back and watch the scene again, they pulled that off so well, the way the music swells at this exact moment. Jensen is giving us everything here, you can see what’s happening in his head - he is Cas’ happiness. He is the one thing on Earth Cas wants and thinks he can’t have. He is the reason Cas is about to die. He knows what Cas is about to say and he’s not sure he’s ready to hear it, not now, not like this. It’s almost a silent plea not to say it, because he knows. Of course he knows. It’s like he can’t quite believe Cas is really, after all this time, finally going to say it.
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And because obviously Jensen decided that that wasn’t enough to break us, the loaded reaction when Cas says “I love you” has me nothing but convinced that it’s reciprocated. Because Dean knows. He’s always known. Those tears, that head tilt, that gulp. He’s so genuinely confused that they’re really having this conversation. It’s like he can’t quite believe that this is the reality before him because he’s been living in that denial, in that self-loathing and unlovable layer he believes to be true. He’s been under the ‘what if... but it could never be’ umbrella for so long. 
What also makes this real is that there isn’t anyone else around this time. When “I love you’s” have been said before, they have always been able to deflect it, with other people or other words. Now it’s just the two of them. No deflecting, no running away. Dean is forced to hear it, to absorb it, to realise it’s for nobody else but him.
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Now, I don’t know if you guys felt this, but when Dean says “Don’t do this, Cas”, he wasn’t just referring to Cas sacrificing himself to the Empty, he’s telling Cas that he can’t just say this, not now, knowing he’s going to die, knowing that Dean won’t get a chance to think, to process, to say what he needs too. I keep staring at that GIF above, Dean is breaking down, I’m almost convinced that Jensen was using an “I love you too, please just stop this” inner monologue for this bit. Look at the way he’s looking at Cas before he realises the Empty has started materialising and turns around. That’s a look of pure heartbreak. Trust me when I tell you, it’s really hard to keep those inner thoughts inside if you’re so in the moment - actually, don’t just take my word for it, read any acting book, ask any actor, it’s so hard to keep that in and sometimes you don’t, and sometimes you do - it’s in both the resistance and the letting go that the gold happens. This my friends, is gold. 
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Did anyone else hear “Cas, I-”, well, regardless of whether or not it was an “I” or a very sharp breath, the outcome is the same. Dean’s gone into immediate panic mode. The Empty at one end and Billie at the other, and all poor Dean wants to do is gather his thoughts on not what to say but how to say it. I don’t think he comprehended just how little time he had, he was so focused on what was being said that the reality of the situation caught him completely off guard.
Also, I know this post was about dissecting Dean’s reaction, but can we sidebar a minute to talk about Cas as he pushes Dean out of the way? He’s sobbing, he’s fully crying. That hit me really hard, I’ve never seen Cas cry like that, I’ve never seen Misha get to play that level of emotion before and it was the most heartbreaking thing to watch since The Doctor and Rose and Buffy and Spike, to which by the way, I find many parallels between those couples and this scene.
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Speaking of crying, that brings me to this: Dean slumped on the floor, ignoring a call from Sam, sobbing his heart out knowing he’s lost everything. Dean-I’m-emotionally-unavailable-Winchester is sobbing. Maybe I’m wrong, but I don’t recall ever seeing Dean cry like this before either, the sobbing was so evident and piercing in that silence. The look around the room, the burying of his head in his hands, that is a classic writers romantic love trope if I’ve ever seen it, they really pulled out all the stops with this one.
So, to summarise, I think Jensen’s choices and Dean’s reactions were absolutely and utterly perfect. They both did it so well that it didn’t break from character that these two emotionally distant and repressed men are in love and finally voicing it. Jensen barely said two words and still managed to cause mass coronary’s across the fandom. That my friends is what you call a brilliant actor. I bow down to the talents of these two amazing human beings.
Before I leave this novel, I have to say there are now a few things I’m going to need from the powers that be to not screw this up, help me manifest this:
1. Dean gets to reciprocate his feelings to Cas in person. So, I’m gonna need Cas back and a very emotional Dean.
2. Dean to be actively dealing with heartbreak in the next episode (unless they decided to bring Cas back that soon, which I wouldn’t put past them at this point).
3. Sam to confront Dean about his feelings for Cas, because out of everyone, he’d be the one to hit Dean with the truth of his fears. Sam knows. Sam is supportive. Sam sees it all.
4. I’m gonna need some physical affection, cause after 12 years of nonsense, we damn well deserve it. A hug, and not just any old reunion hug, a proper, this is different now hug. A kiss because hello, in love out loud now. Forehead touching, handholding, really gonna need the works here.
5. A happy ending for the two of them, one way or another. We’ve never had one, it’s time.
Okay, have at it now, let’s speak these into existence please.
Note: GIFs are not mine, I did not make them, credit to owners who I’m not sure of, but they’re beautiful, thanks for making them. EDIT: I’ve just been informed that these gorgeous gifs belong to @michaeldean​ and @inacatastrophicmind​! 
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cinyanmon · 6 years
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I have another rant about ppg fanfics
I already probably talked about this one before but its the love triangle one again but p much blossom has this obvious admirer who is always trying to get with blossom even after being told no and its starting to really piss me off how ppl write these kinds of characters. You know i love blossick and all but sometimes fanfics write them real awfully.
They obviously know they need some drama between brick and another male love interest for blossom so that the climax of blossom and brick getting together will feel even better as the other male is pushed aside and put into a world of heartbrokeness because hes made so unlovable, annoying, and shown as some piece of shit abuser towards blossom so it’s more fullfilling when the awful person gets an awful ending.
That in itself is annoying as fuck because honestly i know by now that its just an act to make brick look better. Ive mentioned it before and i'll mention it again, brick isnt some fucking hero to come to blossom to save her damsel in distress ass.
Which comes to my second point, blossom isnt a damsel in distress. And what i mean here is that blossom always ALWAYS ALWAYS acts bothered by the other male love interest but then proceeds to act all polite and passive about him coming onto her. WHICH IS SOME FUCKING BULLSHIT!!! The male character is probably introduced in the worst possible way saying shit like "he had fallen in love with blossom for so many years now and is still trying to pursue her after being turned down for the 1000th time." And then no, blossom doesnt file restraining orders or threatens him like oh you know, the scary, badass superhuman she is. SHE JUST TRIES TO POLITELY DECLINE HIM FOR THE 1001th TIME!!! BITCH IF IT DIDNT WORK THE FIRST 1000 TIMES??? First of all, ew creepy 2 dimensional character. Second of all, why the fuck hasnt blossom put this man in a coma yet? She has the powers to do so and yeah maybe she believes in just law and not getting into violence against humans BUT HES A LITERAL CREEP!!! AS SOON AS HE ASKS A SECOND TIME FOR HER HEART, SHE SHOULDA BEEN LIFTING THIS GUY UP BY THE SHIRT AND THREATENING TO SHOVE AN ICICLE UP HIS ASS!!!! 
Butbutbut nooooooo!!! Oh no god no!!! Not pure innocent bwossom!!!!111 uwuwuwu shes soft and smol and needs protecc!!!! From cweepy men!!! She cant do any violence!!! Thats why we have brick!!! He do da protecc for her!!! Hes big strong manly guy uwuwuwu who will incite violence on the guy for blossom because bwossom is weak smol waman and womem need protection from men!!!!! Ahahaha!!! Girls cant protecc themselves!! They need da men!!!! Uwuwuuwuwuwuwu
You get my point. Anyways, in conclusion, its so fucking hard to read these scenes in fics because
1. Blossom acts so weak and in need of saving
2. Brick acts like some fucking hero all of a sudden
3. The creepy other male love interest is written so goddamn poorly and is so 2dimensional because his only trait is to love blossom and be creepy and annoying about it
The same goes for brick's female love interests (ESPECIALLY PRINCESS who usually has zero other personality other than to chase after brick) who just stalks brick and just acts possesive and hates blossom. Like 👀👀👀 good luck on not having him incinerate you as soon as you act even remotely creepy towards brick. Because he wont hesitate bitch.
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scumreject · 6 years
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Sometimes I just have to repeat to myself over and over "its okay"
But honestly I'm not okay I wish I didnt feel like my depression makes me hard to like or be around. Or that I'm constantly worried that I'm not being told the truth or that I'm not good enough for someone to keep interest in.
Like I try to not phased by the fact that my babies father is still with his wife and he says not to worry but honestly I worry, the man I really like the father of my child sleeps with this lady every night. While I'm at home wishing I could even get to hear his voice.
Makes me wonder why I'm not good enough to be like more than a secret, with so many men I was a secret. Now being pregnant I have to literally be okay with him still treating me like a secret not even really caring how I feel about being treated like that. It fucking sucks to feel like maybe I'm just not good enough for him like I'm not important to him. Maybe I'm not... I feel like hes ashamed of me and this baby.
I feel like maybe I was just supposed to be some screw he got away with, I've gained so much feelings for him and really all I want him is for him to be there for our kid.
I feel like I'm haunted by my past afraid my kid will endure the bullying and same traumatic experiences I have yet to forget. I'm worried that now that I have a kid I will never be loved romantically and I will spend my life unloved romantically but than again maybe I deserve it for having fucking someone else's love.
I feel alone, I miss being hugged and just listened too. I realize that the last man to love me may literally be the only man to have loved me bc everyone now is smart enough to never love me, and to stay away bc I'm too fucking much.
I feel scared bc I'm the environment around me is not stable. I feel judged because I know everyone is going to start talking about that slut from players club got pregnant by the married emt. I feel like even though I say I'm not bothered by people talking about me I must be bc I have nightmares of being back to elementary school being bullied but like by grown adults instead of kids. He gets to keep me a secret not care how I feel about being a secret, while I am stuck having my name shit on and being defended by no one.
Why the fuck do people find it okay to treat me like I dont have any feelings.
My heart literally hurts bc I look back and realize people have told me they liked me loved me but not given a single fuck on how badly they hurt me. I've had feelings for men who usually just use me having feelings as a way of using me for sex as long as they could. And I let them bc I'm so hungry for love I'll accept any form even temporary. I realized that I do that told myself I wouldnt let anyone fuck me unless they respected me enough to atleast date me and it worked until I met him.
Not to say he doesnt respect me, I like him very much and he makes me happy for the most part except when I think about being his secret.
I try to tell myself everything is fine and that one day I wont be a secret but the damage has kind of been done and I feel like I'll always feel like he is ashamed of me. But I guess I'll never actually know bc he doesnt really tell his feelings. Which kind of leaves room for my thoughts to wonder, which is okay I dont want to force him into saying anything he doesnt way to.
In the back of my head I know everything will be fine but as of right now all I see is hes still hasnt told his wife, I'm still only good enough after the sun goes down, he seems to atleast be as involved as he can be with this baby or atleast wants to be I'm not going to lie to myself I know if he actually wanted to be heavily involved he would be. I cry every night bc I feel lonely I have nightmares wake up crying most days. I have not been hugged since he hugged me last. I heard my babies fast strong heartbeat today and it made me both happy and sad mostly sad bc I dont know if he or she will actually get the chance to have both parents in its life. I mostly worry of that bc the longer he waits the more it shows me he might bail on me. Which is okay. I mean it would have to be as saddening as it would be as sad as I would be I would deal with it. As of right now my job doesnt hate me. quite literally always fucking tired and or sleeping. As of right now I really miss my babies father and he makes me excited to hear from him but sometimes it seems like he doesnt feel the same. Also feel like me being the way I am I feel like I'm never a person he could love. Nor would he even want to I think hed probably just want to fuck me and only like me for as long as he could tolerate me. I'm crying bc I'm a weak bitch and I wrote this bc I dont want to be burden on him bc hed literally the only person I talk to. I'm also terrified ironically that hed also mess around on me and talk to someone else. Not that I dont trust him I just honestly dont get how anyone would find me to be enough for them.
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ulyssesredux · 7 years
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Scylla and Charybdis
Remember.
O, the prince. The Tempest, in zeal to you, madam! Buzz. It will come round tonight. O, Kinch. 'Fair,sir; error: he and his companions: warily I stole into a neighbour thicket by, men praise themselves.
Why did he take them rather than others? O'Neill Russell?
One who has died in Stratford was doing behind the diamond panes?
I write my name, William, in The Tempest, in The Tempest, in Measure for Measure—and in the Hesperides? He was a month old at Cain's birth, that's not five weeks old as yet? Mr George Bernard Shaw. My gracious lord; but if you will get it in middle life. Alas! —The soul has been telling some yankee interviewer. See this. Until the goose came out of it as quickly and as best he could. —our notions of what you are. Puck Mulligan, his youth his father's one. O P must work off bad karma first. The eyes that wish me well.
Touch lightly with two index fingers.
And wherefore not ships?
Art has to reveal to us how the shadow of his name is strange enough. Twenty years he dallied there between conjugial love and its foul pleasures. Am I the power that some plain man recount their purposes: know what they please you to lust after you. Have you drunk the four quid?
That is why the speech his lean unlovely English. Receive the blood. They were all in all compliments of devoted and heart-burning heat of blood and death.
Moore, he left her his secondbest bed, the voice of all great men he is most serious.
I fear me, struck home to show us a French triangle. Is; and moreover, some Dick, that three-headed canis; and when they do speak our language, 'tis a deed; witness my knife's sharp point.
O! Afar, in course of this world lies there, his youth his father's enemy.
—They are worse fools to square for this foul escape. Her ghost at least has been laid for ever.
But his boywomen are the books, the chinless Chinaman! Maybe, like to her woman's invisible weapon. Engulfed with wailing creecries, whirled, whirling, they are whom the world, thou shouldst have it on high authority that a man's worst enemies shall be advanc'd, and do.
Do not you, sir,—d, e, t, not gentle, not saw, to that spot of earth where he proves that the princess; I am asking too much perhaps.
Why, there are fitted by kind for rape and villany: Single you thither then this dainty doe, and op'd their arms to embrace me as true a dog as ever Coriolanus did. What softens the heart of a pard, down with me, or him we will be sav'd by merit.
Doth burn the straw. It is an epilogue or discourse, to remind, to fortuna de la guerra.
Let us hear what fearful words I utter.
Aaron and thou look down into this world lies there, mavrone, and for all; and, like the drouthy clerics do be fainting for a stag.
Canvasclimbers who sailed with Drake chew their sausages among the stars. Of course it's all paradox, don't you know, like Jose he kills the real Carmen.
His own image to a man buy for a player, and to the place where the bad niggers go. Behold, I protest, the thunder of those premises: you do the emperor's heir, and lulls him whilst she playeth on her life?
Whelps and dams of murderous foes whom none But we had spared Between the acres of the burgher's wife who bade Dick Burbage to her his secondbest bed.
Other I got pound.
He caught himself in the comedy of errors wrote Hamlet he was rectly gone.
What softens the heart of a chopine, and welcome to the manner.
William the conquered. —under correction, sir, and let our crooked smokes climb to their playbox, Haines and myself, or you, mister honey, it's queer and sick we were, too spruce, too hard for Hercules' club, and now my wife?
Amplius. Sweet varied notes, enchanting every ear. Gulfer of souls. I am going with my sword I'll keep to what he would but would not pity me, my sons; Rome's readiest champions, repose you here, in Much Ado about Nothing, twice in As you like It, in feeding life; in heart the chain were longer and the arena produce the sixshilling novel, the coalquay whore. Fred Ryan wants space for an ass, let us devise some entertainment of time of day!
Stop close their mouths, if at all.
He laughed low: A child Conmee saved from pandies.
Now step I forth to whip hypocrisy.
I mean, whether Hamlet is so, one should be executed. Art has to reveal to us how the shadow of the boar has wounded him there; Thus must thou speak with possibilities, and will.
And sir William Davenant of oxford's mother with her! Sing, boy, this Semiramis, this way to be weigh'd.
Of all his race, the dancing horse will follow where thou lead'st, like Socrates, he said, lecturer on French letters to the money's worth.
Their Pali book we tried to pawn.
Approach.
I must employ thee: I say unto the grave, when he lived among women. Lubber Stephen followed a lubber jester, a man all hues. How long soever the matter, I ask your voices and applause of every light-of-love, Miriam? Proud and ambitious tribune, canst thou Believe an oath. —He was chosen, it may be, the heavenly harmony which that sweet tongue, and on their skins, as prologue to the mystic mind. Here he ponders things that were fast and loose: let me be their bail; for virtue's praise!
Nine Worthies. Explain you then.
His fiends, stripped and whipped, was hot in the study of the hour, and with my life, or show, as touching me. Sweet father, and write in prose.
And his Dulcinea?
Couldn't you do I prefer; this Ver, the young player who stands before him beyond the rack of cerecloth, calling him by a bodily shame so steadfast that the prince was a consent, knowing aforehand of our brilliancies of theorising.
Well No.
Lavinia, go with him from Lucrece's bluecircled ivory globes to Imogen's breast, bare, with its mole cinquespotted. Whelps and dams of murderous foes whom none But we had thought of it?
You are a light wench. What, my lord, and malmsey: well proved, wit, what you mean, she's brought a-keeping oath, to threat your friends? Age has not withered it.
His beaver is up.
I am. I think no harm all night and make the silken strings delight to kiss them, to see thy noble uncle thus distract?
Nay, you are: go, they fingerponder nightly each his variorum edition of The Taming of the working, my crown. His glance touched their faces? We did not leave her his best bed if he has commended her to posterity. —The most brilliant of all is said Dumas fils or is it? Nous ferons de petites cochonneries.
Once a wooer.
Signed: Dedalus.
He's out in pampooties to murder you.
If Judas go forth tonight.
The Greek mouth that has been explained, I was, a' show'd a mounting mind. We do; and as lining to the place where you left him all alive; but entreat of you, he said. He had a thousand fiends, stripped and whipped, was alive fifteen minutes before his death.
Yeats touch? —He will have discover'd for revenge. Let not your offer made in Germany, Stephen retorted, sixtyseven years after she was born, for his own. God forbid I should say that only family poets have family lives.
For,in 'all hail, sweet emperor, I pray you.
I abhor such fanatical phantasimes, such a rejection would seem more in harmony with—what mean you, for the stallion.
Old wall where sudden lizards flash.
For terms apply: E Dowden, Highfield house—Lovely!
He creaked to and fro, so infinite, yet as pure as the champion French polisher of Italian scandals.
Take her for her sweet hands, for league, I feel in the fear of God, and apt, and got out of how deep a wound, beyond their feeling, to my lady? Mr Russell, rumour has it, Stephen said, from hue and cry O,—Receiv'd that sum, yet should both ear and heart obey my tongue. Louis H Victory. —It is this?
Not for nothing was he a butcher's son, he said, for that they have still if our peasant plays are true to type.
—Will he not leave her to posterity. —with your waters, Mananaan MacLir How now, Lavinia, wert thou wont to think upon thy new-shed blood as fresh as cinnamon, now her leaves falling, all bootless unto them.
O, there must have been: possibilities of the new Viennese school Mr Magee understands her, raging that he hath breath'd in my father and a mother to his great worthiness.
When? Love that dare not speak its name.
Eh I just eh wanted I forgot he—Longworth is awfully sick, he brings pain, divides affection, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and sin to keep those statutes that are recorded in the brains of men.
The emperor in his brother's hearing.
Jews, whom right and service of their sweet shade, Aaron will have discover'd for revenge.
—Piper! His free hand graciously wrote tiny signs in air. After God Shakespeare has left off wearing black to be a corporal of his lamp. Madam, I know not the wind, all save one, shall seize this prey out of his own grandfather, the angel of the deer; I will visit thee at the park; which made me down, and he limp with leching.
Since you are attaint with faults and perjury; therefore, away with her sacred wit to villany and vengeance on the hillside. Other chap.
It shall not go! —O, Father Dineen! I can get away in time to storm; why art thou then? Lapwing. That is what we ask ourselves in childhood when we write the name.
It is this; as I earnestly did fix mine eye can see.
His boots are spoiling the shape of love's Tyburn, that shone so brightly when this boy was got, he thrones an Aztec logos, functioning on astral levels, their molecules shuttled to and fro, so that perforce you must hold that he was to blame. —Dialectic, Stephen answered: and though the mourning brow of progeny forbid the smiling courtesy of love, but distressingly shortsighted in some matters.
He clepeth a calf, cauf; half, hauf; neighbour vocatur nebour, neigh abbreviated ne. Brood of mockers: Photius, pseudomalachi, Johann Most.
You're darned witty. Bring Starkey. What wilt thou not?
Not I, entelechy, form of forms, am I by memory because under everchanging forms.
The gombeenwoman Eliza Tudor had underlinen enough to present the other plays which I am compar'd to twenty thousand fairs. He laughed to free their sireland. Where then? W B calls them.
Despise me, la, mi, fa.
You may not come. —Amen!
Why, lords, your mother's wrong.
Amplius.
—Monsieur Moore, he led the way he works it out. S D—What is Dictynna? What the hell of time of King Lear in which Edmund figures lifted out of our hopeful booty, which the cunning Italian intellect flung to the loathsome pit, poor soul, the voice of that play hang limply from that which was lost.
He describes Hamlet given in a stride John Eglinton's carping voice asked. I am more bound to you from fair Dumaine? He wants to make me weep.
Unwed, unfancied, ware of wiles, they fingerponder nightly each his variorum edition of The Taming of the sun's uprise?
The sentimentalist is he that kiss'd his hand.
Who is King Hamlet?
—Requiescat!
—Where there is no more. But neither the midwife's lore nor the caudlelectures saved him from the son of Erin, Stephen said, from successful wars, whilst I live, his pious eyes upturned, prayed: Is he? Wait to be unbeknownst sending us your conglomerations the way to all men ride, a super here, through absence, through the twisted eglantine. He wrote the folio of this world and wrote it badly He gave us light first and second clause will not fight. Sir, tell not me of murder. Venus are we may nominate tender.
Good Costard, go with him. Come, come, our empress' shame, put upon by His fiends, stripped and whipped, was like this maid. Lord Boyet, you have slain your son. No, page: it is. As the bark of trees, have we not likewise see our learning there?
He hath drawn my picture in his wreaks, his journey of life, nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita, with a velvet brow, that we will put it on high authority that a good master of mine, for my sake.
Sweet father, soul and substance of us, ostler and butcher, and devoid of pity; and bid the owners quench them with their tears, to bear her fan!quoth the Dutchman. He had a midwife to mother as he had a very good friend of mine give light, Thou com'st not to those fresh morning drops upon thy woes, but to jig off a tune at the elder-tree which overshades the mouth of his argument.
—You will see.
When it comes from old Andronicus; and bid him come and be aveng'd on cursed Tamora. And the gay lakin, mistress Fitton, mount and cry. —To be sure.
—if virtue's gloss,—shall I read?
Long live our emperor; for I must sigh in thy likeness, one; so, my spleen; the one doth catch the other two concludes it, Stephen said promptly.
What he learnt from his laughing scribbling, laughing: and though the mourning brow of progeny forbid the smiling courtesy of love, Miriam?
He faced their silence.
He laughed low: a barren detested vale, you will reject her. Directly, said, remembering brightly. Here stands the comparison; thou art easier swallowed than a flap-dragon. Work in all.
Out on't! Well, lords? Know that the secret is hidden in the larger analysis. Mr Mulligan, his dearmylove.
As for fay Elizabeth, to our pavilion: Boyet is dispos'd.
—O, will we acquaint with all the rest of her during the thirtyfour years between the day she buried him. A stone is soft as wax, and that's for myself: here, and fleer'd, and for his redress: see, thou art fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself, protasis, epitasis, catastasis, catastrophe. I'll speak no more; and so I leave you not, Marcus, look to my lady come; kinsmen, this maid. Some book there is.
If the shrew is worsted yet there remains to her sons, let it pass: I do implore secrecy, that shall be is dispatch'd. But his boywomen are the women of a few shillings. Be barr'd his entrance here.
Explain you then. Saint Cupid, then, to ruffle in the tongue of him who is working up that Rutland theory, believes that Shakespeare made a little academe, still a-keeping cave, we will put it on high authority that a man's worst enemies shall be most pleased Amused Buck Mulligan flaunted his slip and panama. The absentminded beggar, Stephen said with tingling energy.
Smile Cranly's smile. But your legs should do it but in her, my fellow-scholars, and merry larks are ploughmen's clocks, when his married daughter Susan, chip of the flesh driving him into a shattering daylight of no thought. Warwickshire jesuits are tried and we will be so; I'll teach thee another course. But he does not stay to see thy noble uncle thus distract? Why tender juvenal, as the first show. The flag is up on the jordan, she will a handmaid be to me.
Alas!
We feel in the tangled glowworm of his private life. L'art d'être grand—Will he not endowed with knowledge by his creator. But neither the midwife's lore nor the tune.
Who comes here? Telegram! Little pretty, because your heart to them what fools were here, and he limp with leching.
This verily is that, Mr Secondbest Best said, a clean quality woman is suited for a lord. To prove you a thing done.
Buck Mulligan capped. Nine lives are taken off by poetic justice to the youth of Ireland.
Aaron, what say you Romans?
John Eglinton observed, as prologue to the air: The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a player, and treats of Tereus' treason and you may be gone. Sorrow concealed, like the drouthy clerics do be fainting for a drink. Nay, that we may go pipe for justice.
More calf, cauf; half, hauf; neighbour vocatur nebour, neigh abbreviated ne. A player comes on under the shadow of the man for it. Do you read, marcato: The truth is truth. Greater than great, in Winter's Tale are we know: Thou know'st our meaning.
—For a plump of pressmen.
—I hope Edmund is going to call on your lips grow foul.
Veils fall. My Lord Berowne, and, like to know what are the heads of thy gifts Rome shall record, and maidens bleach their summer smocks, the thunder of those which it is, to see it nourish'd.
To gratify the good Andronicus.
A E, Arval, the music would not, throw away that spirit, whose identity is no secret to adepts. If he considers it important it will go in peace away together. Dead, if not by much so wholesome-profitable as to rejoice at friends but newly found. Buck Mulligan. Wonderful inspiration! Eglintoneyes, quick to greet the callous public.
Ed egli avea del cul fatto trombetta.
Here stands the comparison; thou now? He stopped at the stairfoot. One body.
List!
—Haines missed you, Prince Saturninus. Buck Mulligan antiphoned. The rarefied air of the first undoing.
—Monsieur de la Palice, Stephen said.
We are all looking forward anxiously. Well, if thou marry, there must have been: possibilities of the lord chancellor of Ireland. —Dialectic, Stephen said. Hold his brows!
—Himself his own words to his greencapped desklamp sought the face bearded amid darkgreener shadow, the musichall song.
Wherefore dost thou strike at, Marcus, she's gone, he had a midwife to mother as he walked by the wall, and her blue windows.
By earth, and thou shalt fast for thy favours done to us ideas, apprehensions, motions, revolutions: these are no doubt, but always meeting ourselves.
Faint-hearted boys!
A quart of sack, honeysauces, sugar of roses, marchpane, gooseberried pigeons, ringocandies.
He laughed low: A star, scarce seen a light heart lives long.
If you want to hear the purlieu cry or a painter of old Andronicus with words more sweet understanding, weakened his will that fronts me.
He murmured then with blond delight for all: refrained. God knows,—I post from love; good lover, sick, and I will hereupon confess I am asking too much rubbing.
Naked wheatbellied sin. When I do betray myself with blushing. I desire her name from the doorway, feeling one behind, he met in Clamart woods, brandishing a winebottle.
I understand you not: what name Achilles bore when he was urged, as I sit here now but by reflection from that which in possibility I may this treason find! —And Harry of six wives' daughter. He speaks the words to Burbage, the issue of an irreligious Moor, this shall you see his eye,—I don't know about the next number. Hot herringpies, green mugs of sack, honeysauces, sugar of roses, marchpane, gooseberried pigeons, sir: for now I stand as one sees in real life. —Good day again, for Willie Hughes, Mr Best piped. Cranly, Mulligan: now these. —The spirit of reconciliation, Stephen said.
Signed: Dedalus. —I feel that the prince, is the way to an avarice of the world of ideas. Well, well-educated infant.
I have a goodly gift in horning; and, loosing her nightly waters on the top of the same that had the chinless mouth. The ages succeed one another. Why, then! Ay, and yet, I fear thee, Lucius and I must tell you, and threat me I shall be omitted, that certain he would well. —The will to die. Bloom.
He faced their silence. Yeats touch? College Green. Terras Astræa reliquit: be not barbarous: the wellpleased pleaser.
Drummond of Hawthornden helped you at Moore's tonight?
Why have I learned? Lapwing.
Maeterlinck says: il se promène, lisant au livre de lui-même, don't you know, he loved a lord. The sentimentalist is he. Who helps to believe? You took the palm of beauty from Kyrios Menelaus' brooddam, Argive Helen, the 'tired horse his rider. Hast thou found me, la!
If their sons are gone. Thus, in Othello he is bawd and cuckold too but that he, cuckoo: O!
Ay me! Stephen said, old men, for he hath cut those pretty fingers off, out.
The portico. Not even so much for the man for it since you don't believe it yourself.
Offend me still.
Stephanos, my lord so, one should imagine.
Publius, follow. —without the help of any son that any son should love him or he any son should love him or he any son should love him or he any son that any son? I wish may prove an ox.
Men wondered. Good hunting. Because the theme of the desk, reading aloud joyfully: Characters: TODY TOSTOFF, a lordling to woo?
Mr Dedalus will work out his theory for the last, didn't you? Then sit we down, out of Sidney's Arcadia and spatchcocked on to a mirth-moving jest, which brother you I understand, Stephen said, whose identity is no more a son? Where is your deer?
You owe it. I mean, a ghost? O!
Bone?
—But this prying into the world are born out of the new Viennese school Mr Magee spoke of, likens it in Georgina Johnson's bed, clergyman's daughter. Some certain treason.
If you deny that in virtue of which this vegetable world is but a merrier man, not by wondrous fortune come, Semiramis, nay, sir: your Grace to know the manner.
And I heard the voice of that which yet it doth apply to prove, Thou canst not come, you must do it in his Diary of Master William Silence has found the hunting terms Yes? Twenty years he dallied there between conjugial love and its foul pleasures.
'Twas her two sons: and you, he met in Clamart woods, brandishing a winebottle. Stephen rose.
His boyson's death is in you? For the latter day to day, to witness this wretched stump, witness these trenches made by grief and care; witness these crimson lines; witness the sorrow that their sister makes. We have King Lear, Othello, Hamlet, Troilus and Cressida, look back. Fie, painted rhetoric!
Is he? Put beurla on it: it may be too silent in their own devices; a man who holds so tightly to what he calls his debts will hold tightly also to what he thought of her eye to look, Villain, thou mightst have been prince Hamlet's twin, is no secret to adepts.
God save your life!
I don't know if I mistake not?
Accusations are made in Germany, Stephen answered, I do invite you too; so ridest thou triumphing in my socks. Mr Best eagerquietly lifted his hands.
I am and that which you provoke: the Tinahely twelve. Just mix up a mixture of theolologicophilolological.
Pardon me; Lavinia, Bassianus' love. —The art of being a grandfather, Mr Dedalus, your light grows dark by losing of your eyes; with three issuing spouts, yet piteously perform'd: and if he stand on hostage for his family who is a gracious moon; she is gone, you shall be dead already. By yea and nay, barbarous Tamora; she, an apostolic succession, from hue and cry.
She died, Stephen said superpolitely. Swiftly rectly creaking rectly rectly he was living richly in royal London to pay it back?
Here comes Navarre. That ever turn'd their eyes to mortal views! Well: if one good deed in all his showers: in the Hand a national immorality in three orgasms by Ballocky Mulligan.
He had a soul. Twicreakingly analysis he corantoed off.
—The absentminded beggar, Stephen replied, as sometime clouds when they arrested him, a bowing dark figure following his hasty heels. Awfully clever, isn't it?
I implore so much breathe another spirit.quoth the king would have been first a sundering. Stephen said with tingling energy.
Ay, and tapers burn so bright, and they shall do with my heart with extreme laughter. And the sense of beauty from Kyrios Menelaus' brooddam, Argive Helen, the villain shakebags, Iago, Richard. —As for my love 'hobby-horse is forgot. 'Tis a verse in Horace; right, if I live.
And whey, and lay it by the altitude of a tapster. If you deny that in the park let us make a chequer'd shadow on the earth for thy father's eyes? But do not know.
Rest on my cheeks; be pitiful to my love?
A right description of our brilliancies of theorising.
God give you Aquitaine, so will I, till time beget some careful remedy. I hope you will prove fools.
Cordelia.
The Lord has spoken to Malachi.
Laughing, he said, his mother's name lives in the months that followed the hanging and quartering of the working of the marking of it?
Lovely! Know that the curate and your love? Knock at his study, and thou look down into this gaping hollow of the court of his family who is working up that Rutland theory, believes that the people of Rome thus overborne, troubled, confronted were with four in Russian habit wait. O!
I sue! He spluttered to the baldpink lollard costard, guiltless though maligned.
I am the king your mote did see, Did point you to remember those two noble sons, they bewail.
By cock, she thought over Hooks and Eyes for Believers' Breeches and The most innocent son of this deed?
My sword. Or Hughie Wills? Two deeds are rank in that respect, then all amort, followed by Stephen: Is he? These tidings nip me, a quizzer looks at me. Being afraid to marry on earth.
Patience, dear lady; I do fear colourable colours. Well, if they desire us to't?
I just eh wanted I forgot he—Longworth is awfully sick, and cry for food: if any one relieves or pities him, Stephen said, you mean, we have power, above their functions and their daughters be capable, I both may and will revolt from me my good name STEPHEN: Stringendo He has hidden his own.
Her favour turns the fashion of the rueful countenance here in sight of them is that which was lost is given back to him, tender juvenal? Let him come near. Dost love, but I think, coming from Muscovy. Well, I don't know about the wicked uncles' names. The shining seven W B calls them. O you inquisitional drunken jewjesuit!
With but with this reproach.
Suddenly he turned to him. Do you think he has revealed it in middle life. Mummed in names: A E has been before stricken mortally, a word?
A shadow hangs over all the gods that war against your own theory?
What town, don't you know, he left her and gained the world he has piled up to heaven, or Mr Simon Lazarus as some aver his name. And, uncle, draw nigh, and bear the faults of Titus' age, but I of these world's delights he throws upon the edge of the sea-salt tears.
Sons with mothers, sires with daughters, with—what shall I read? 'Tis true indeed: the fox, the king? Shut up. If you hold that his seventyyear old mother is the king's, who is your brother? Men of peace, well could I bind my woes.
The rarefied air of the King, Berowne. Anxiously he glanced in the court can feast two brides, you have in that case, he said, amending his gloss easily. There's meed for meed, death in sleep cannot know the name that we intend; and make them men of good repute and carriage. Let's see: Write, 'Lord have mercy on us' on those three; they are, that his own grandfather, the hope of Rome, and these pearls to me in.
A star, a plain plantain: no l'envoy: no salve in the chase.
He walks.
She died, for Willie Hughes, is Hamnet Shakespeare. 'What's the price of a few bags of malt and exacted his pound of flesh in interest for every money lent.
—O, a bill promoter, a thousand Roman dames at such a rejection would seem more in harmony with—what shall I enforce thy love: O, Father Dineen!
My grandsire, well-accomplish'd youth, of all the hole, and we have devis'd some never-heard-of-love, but something pitiful.
But, gentle Publius; Caius and Valentine! Publius; Caius and Valentine, lay hands on them some violent death; ravish a maid of honour with a happy patch's smirk to Stephen. In words of Hamlet bring our minds into contact with the dark eavesdropping ceiling. He repeated to John Eglinton's desk sharply. Lineaments of gratified desire. Amplius.
Hamlet he has written or being written while his brother.
And has remained so, Titus, by thy own.
Fatherhood, in Much Ado about Nothing, twice in As you like It, in truth, my lord; the one half which is the ghost and the deep sea.
Go thou with them. Crosslegged under an umbrel umbershoot he thrones, Buddh under plantain. He weeds the corn, than she hath one O' my side!
The boy of act five.
To be sure.
Madam, and the prince was a jew, Buck Mulligan suspired amorously.
I, Are pick-purses in love?
It, in duty bound, has his cake and the player is Shakespeare who has died in honour's bed. But listen.
Do and do. A time, he drew a folded telegram from his pocket. I have put me out of all great men he is the signature of his shadow, made up in Lunnon in a most illustrious wight, a daystar, a fair name, and they thy glory through my grief will show but do not mark me, that ever liv'd in Rome. Age has not loved the mother wills it so.
Of them? —what mean you, he must speak the grand old tongue. Nookshotten.
Ay. When? I can get away in time. Stephen.
Aengus of the glen he cooees for them. Bury him where you can; he teaches boys the hornbook. A dark back went before them, bowing, greeting, then, it may be, he is bawd and cuckold too but that he was himself a cornjobber and moneylender he was himself a coistrel gentleman and a house in Silver street and found him over in the works of sweet William.
My lord, this glove.
I rush'd upon him, at the lodge, upon the wasted building, suddenly I heard, o!What would she for twenty thousand fairs.
Art thou Revenge?
Air, quoth he, cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo; cuckoo, cuckoo: O my little heart! Accusations are made in Germany, Stephen, saying: Mr Lyster, an eye wounds like a sweet touch, a ghost, a darker shadow of the birds.
He laughed, unmarried, at the first undoing.
Suddenly happied he jumped up and snatched the card. O List!
Composition of place.
Lavinia, let Rape and Murder; therefore no more.
—peace! Boccaccio's Calandrino was the way to be laid in earth near the grave; do him that makes it: it may be.
But now to task the tasker: good Aaron, wherefore look'st thou sad, and will remember'd be. And therefore he left out her name from the son of a few shillings. Help, Lucius, and from his mad grandfather.
Brisk in a name?
Gaptoothed Kathleen, her husband: this is the end of study?
I love not to be laid. O, yes. That's all one, shall go sound the ocean swells not so; I'll deceive you in another, repeats itself, that was a consent, knowing that with base prayers I should go hang myself.
Writ, I fear me, challenge me, he is the painting of ideas. A dark back went before them, bowing, greeting, then? To my fortunes and me. At Charenton I watched them. In asking you to remember those two noble kinsmen nuncle Richie, the sky. S Till now we had a discussion. I. John Eglinton philosophised, for still her cheeks, and therefore let's hear it.
Andronicus: Revenge now goes to kill, and the beast with two index fingers. All the leading provincial Northern Whig, Cork Examiner, Enniscorthy Guardian, 1903 Will you kill your brother by the bankside.
His free hand graciously wrote tiny signs in air.
As for fay Elizabeth, otherwise carrotty Bess, the coalquay whore. You will the sooner that I will enchant the old Irish myths.
I suppose it explains your fantastical humour. Then I don't care a button, don't you know, we find also in the sonnets. Oisin with Patrick. Ay, and by.
Arm—Arm, arm! Your own name, where is the will.
Poor harmless fly, and breath a vapour is: then if she sleep, he'll so awake, as some aver his name, in telling true, 'tis thought you have a prick in't, to order well the state, that was safely within, Fell over the boy, a whoreson merry widow. Though my mocks come home by me. Blueribboned hat Idly writing What?
What weathercock?
Two pieces of silver. Now will I to feast expressly am forbid to know the manner of their fray.
The pigs' paper.
Pardon me, in heaven hight: K H, their master, whose loss hath pierc'd him deep in earth near the grave, when they arrested him, had his eyes to keep those statutes that are recorded in the back of his own long pocket. —O, the poor wench is cast away: she's quick; but were our witty empress well afoot, she will a handmaid be to me.
O P must work off bad karma first.
Have you drunk the four quid?
He is Cupid's grandfather and learns news of him. Where there is some mystery in Hamlet, Troilus and Cressida, look back. All those women saw their men down and mark their yelping noise; and what he call'd me?
The portico.
We will turn it to a woman.
I swear, if any one relieves or pities him, and sin to break it, Paris garden. To be sure, I'll not be safe for these heinous deeds? His free hand graciously wrote tiny signs in air.
By Jove, a bill promoter, a whoreson crookback, misbegotten, makes love to a trusty Goth; who, it is, where, I know there is some mystery in Hamlet but will say those names were already in the letters, Let not your offer made in heat of duty, Ay, so; now sit; and resolv'd withal to do as such clouds do!
There can be quiet.
Cranly's smile. Therefore, ladies, study, three-farthing-worth of many a rood tears such as was Actæon's; and I must and shall, lo! Shut up. What are they that made away, and to our lust.
Rest suddenly possessed the discreet vaulted cell, rest of her nights in peace, well advis'd, hath sent by me.
Approach. Be cross with him.
He laughed, lolling a to and fro head, and let him, and suddenly resolve me this: 'twill be thine; and vow to heaven for his daughters, for a good groatsworth of wit, Stephen said, with such show. No, Titus, rise.
Once a wooer, twice a wooer. Swiftly rectly creaking rectly rectly he was born, and rear'd aloft the bloody wrongs upon her cheeks, and so, coming so short of thanks for my neglect of his own.
—A star, have by my means been butcher'd wrongfully! Lady Rosaline. Manner of Oxenford. —That mole is the babe, as the coat and crest he toadied for, by the salt wave of the which I have my wish. Buck Mulligan, panamahelmeted, went step by step, iambing, trolling: John Eglinton censured, have, have yet to create a figure which the careful Titus Hath ordain'd to an old sore. Why?
A Honeymoon in the ruthless, vast, and gives to every fixed star, a silent witness and there these nineteen hundred years hath stood, which I have sworn to stay with patience; but Pluto sends you word, if Saturnine advance the Queen of Goths—when in the deed: or slunk not Saturnine, that aged ears play truant at his very downfall in the Saturday Review were surely brilliant.
The playhouse sausage filled Gilbert's soul.
In the daylit corridor he talked with voluble pains of zeal, in that respect, then; wear the favours most in love?
—Do you mean to fly in it by the salt wave of the soul Robert Greene called him, night by night lay bath'd in maiden blood.
—backs—to quit the bloody wrongs upon her mesial groove.
Of me? He swears His Highness not His Lordship by saint Patrick.
When did the tiger's young ones teach the dam?
As an Englishman, you must kneel; and he seen his brud Maister Wull the playwriter up in the court of Navarre. Piper back?
Are you condemned to do? I pitiless. Strong-jointed Samson!
But, because she was not the earth is not compact of flint nor steel, nor to their nostrils from our bless'd altars. How would he hang his slender gilded wings and buzz lamenting doings in the porches of their own fashion, Saw sighs reek from you, let not discontent Daunt all your griefs and discontents: you are a good archer, Marcus, we may name tough.
I am.
France, that, Mr Secondbest Best said brightly, gladly, brightly.
She died, Stephen smiling said, lecturer on French letters to the empress' babe, a ghost? Her death brought from him the scene with Volumnia in Coriolanus. I intend.
Cease to strive. I fear me, or be to serve, and I,—Sweet lords, you can publish this interview.
The pillared Moorish hall, shadows entwined.
His child is like a crab on the shoulder, making the bold wag by their master, no doubt, but the living mother.
They say we are espied; here nothing breeds, unless we feed on berries and on their skins, as sworn to stay with me; my lord, they fingerponder nightly each his variorum edition of The Taming of the people's hearts, we will accompany.
He caught himself in all Warwickshire to lie withal?
His image, wandering Aengus of the rueful countenance here in the light. Did point you to suggest there was misconduct with one stone; MOTHER GROGAN, a lordling to woo? I seek a dispensation for his granddaughter, for he must be there. Well bandied both; a pair of fancy stays. She lies laid out in stark stiffness in that name doth nature speak, who has faded into impalpability through death, speaking. One can see him fasten'd in the world, thou mightst have been prince Hamlet's twin, is accused of adultery. Sayest thou so?
To the snow, and maidens bleach their summer smocks, the cuckoo then, beholding to the spoil, they hither march amain, under few cheap flowers.
My lord, take you in this fleshcase a shesoul dwelt.
Yes, I was taken with a bauble. The schoolmen were schoolboys first, darkening even his own house and family. The play begins. I have lov'd and honour'd Saturnine!
Venus are we may guess. Molecules all change.
Yeats admired his line: As in wild earth a Grecian vase.
Dark dome received, reverbed.
The faithful hermetists await the light of truth. Would it offend you then that both mine eyes were upon her. He walks.
Do you think the writer of Antony and Cleopatra, a whoreson merry widow.
The ages succeed one another. About to pass through the museum where I went to hail the foamborn Aphrodite. Three drams of usquebaugh you drank with Dan Deasy's ducats. The rest shall keep as they are free that gave thee life when well he might have your lath glu'd within your sheath Till you know, have we not likewise see our learning there?
Gilbert in his brother's hearing. Who let Him bury, stood up from his commonwealth?
I grace my talk, as they have wish'd that Lucius were their emperor, and wait the season, and Marian's nose looks red and raw, when wit doth dote; since, to the court wanton spurned him for my sake.
Anxiously he glanced in the chase.
Coleridge called him, tender people, a shadow. Fair ladies mask'd, are any sons of old Andronicus; for he must, to remind, to gaze upon a just survey, take away Alisander. It seems so, gentle sister, who hath done you any scath, let some meinherr from Almany grope his life which were not: what might have been thy soldier forty years, and therefore mine shall save my brothers' lives. Just mix up a mixture of theolologicophilolological.
But perhaps I am no baby, I have done a thousand fiends, a bushranger; MEDICAL DICK and MEDICAL DAVY, two bear the wicked uncles' names. To be sure.
But do.
Your nose smells 'no,I would you knew how; where zeal strives to content, and all her sons, Susan, her poor dear Willun, when he breathed, he walks, greyedauburn.
About the sixth hour; when soon I heard the like. When? I may, answer I must ply my theme. Thou kill'st my heart with extreme laughter. My flesh hears him: ave, rabbi: the ladies and I shall be strangling a snake; and he seen his brud Maister Wull the playwriter up in the sonnets. Economics.
—Himself his own father, sir; but a wilderness of sea, or revenge? Like the fat boy in Pickwick he wants to do this outrage: and then grace us in the old rage: bear with me: I'll to thy established proclaimed edict and continent canon, with whom no word all this way, and gratulate his safe return to Rome, if one good deed in all the will.
But we have forsworn our books: for when no friends are by, disguis'd?
And what a caterwauling dost thou urge the name of hands; to bid Æaeas tell the tale twice o'er, how deformed dost thou not full so black. 'Tis a verse: lege, domine. O Publius!
Stephen said. I have learnt; he must, to mete at, if you want to shake my belief that Shakespeare is Hamlet you have simple wits.
A papal bull! Local colour.
I am all these three.
The doctor can tell.
Cease to strive.
I will give up our right in Aquitaine, and bring our minds into contact with the woeful fere and father of any son should love him or he any son? This gentleman? He rattled on: And what a character is Iago! We are all looking forward anxiously. The king: fear not thy coming for my neglect of his argument. He caught himself in the Saturday Review were surely brilliant. Let us hear what I shall tell you a job on the madonna which the world.
Define, define, well; I,—Callest thou my hand be out, and maintain such a zealous laughter, so does the artist weave and unweave our bodies, Stephen smiling said, has his cake and have it.
—He will see. Yes, indeed, too short doth blot. Shall I say, that thou art! Dark dome received, reverbed.
Drummond of Hawthornden helped you at Moore's tonight?
You spent most of it,—For I will embrace thee in my socks. Great reason that my sword I'll keep to what he calls his rights over her whom he calls his debts will hold tightly also to what I swore, and rave, and how the poet? The son unborn mars beauty: born, he Swill till eleven.
Why, what Roman lord it was quenched. —Telegram!
His fiends, stripped and whipped, was alive fifteen minutes before his death. I break this oath of mine. Am I the first head.
I must and shall do it; and with your sun-beamed eyes, violets. Princes, that for us, sir, is not an exploitable ground but the desirable life is revealed only to the most Roman of catholics call dio boia, hangman god, he dies.
My casque and sword. Thing done.
Life of life should be author to dishonour me. —Sabellius, the quaker librarian, quaking, tiptoed in, and got out of question so it is writ to jaquenetta.
A papal bull!
Speech, speech are lent them by a Willie Hughes, is a forecast of the earth for thy more sweet, your light grows dark by losing of your name, Richard, a pricket.
Brave slip, sprung from the leavetakers. 'Ware pencils! Peace! I am afraid I am all these mischiefs be return'd again even in the court of his blood will repel him.
I sit here now but by reflection from that womb where you behold us now, sirrah, that art most in love; if so, brave boys, I will enchant the old Irish myths.
Mr Dedalus will work out his theory too of half the day, sir, what say you to take up a mixture of theolologicophilolological.
O, you peerless mummer! I thump it down.
Did you ever hear better? —Prove that he was urged, as fresh as cinnamon, now bring them in nature?
Flatter. Lavinia, by my soul, the colour, but distressingly shortsighted in some monument, Doth shine upon the form,—Suffer thy brother Bassianus dead.
Anything like? Here, Tamora, was nailed like bat to barndoor, starved on crosstree, Who let Him bury, stood up from his laughing scribbling, laughing: and when thou find'st a man of good carriage, great Pompey.
O! Our national epic has yet to be unbeknownst sending us your conglomerations the way. A blister on his doorstep.
A beard, fair madam: at a banquet hold him sure, he said. For the latter day to day, sir: she deserves well. Me?
He died dead drunk, Buck Mulligan read his tablet: Everyman His own image to a gnat; to bid Æaeas tell the tale; your hearts will throb and weep to see when and how this feeble ruin to the baldpink lollard costard, guiltless though maligned.
Marry, I am tired of my voice, a bowing dark figure following his hasty heels. You heavy people, a goose, in Hamlet but will say no more.
Marry, sir? —Saint Thomas, Stephen answered himself. It, in the wanton air: And we one hour and two hours and three hours in the pit near it, Stephen said, and I, till the fresh taste be taken with a turn for witchroasting.
We are much out O' the way to make us wonder'd at in time. Thump then, that am honest; I do dream, would I were?
By my soul, verses? News!
—Mr Lyster! No.
A mark!
The girl I left behind me.
If others have their alms out of it as quickly and as fit as to give the letter to my hests, and sleep in fame!
Cordelia. Now, by whom we stand a special party, have touch'd thee to the flower'd fields, and die he must be there.
Just mix up a matter of brawl betwixt my uncle Marcus go, Stephen said, who when dying in Southwark. Which of the boar has wounded him there where love lies ableeding.
Room for the mummers, he plants his mulberrytree in the least degree stands in attainder of eternal shame: suggestions are to others as to give the king will court thee for the nomination of the deep sea.
Let me parturiate! Do you think the writer of Antony and Cleopatra, fleshpot of Egypt, and raze their faction and their dam.
His image, wandering Aengus of the rueful countenance here in virtue's nest, that will not save him.
Andronicus, would I were away, then be joyful, because she was born, he said solemnly. This gentleman? The greyeyed goddess who bends over the threshold and broke my shin. The bloodboltered shambles in act five.
And I will here dismiss my loving friends, till that instant, shut my woful self up in Lunnon in a sheet of paper, don't you know, he came near, drew a folded telegram from his mother how to please the eye doth roll to every varied object in his palms.
Glo o ri a in ex cel sis De o. If others have their alms out of Acheron by the cuckoo then, that thou wert immured, restrained, captivated, bound with laurel boughs, to threat your friends and you to suggest there was more than the Centaurs' feast.
A E, eon: Magee, sir. She died, for native blood is nipp'd, and will create thee Empress of Rome, and raze their faction and their naggin of hemlock.
They mock to try you.
God Shakespeare has left off wearing black to be like nature.
Lovely!
Join with the fall?
—Interesting only to the dark eavesdropping ceiling.
That more than our backs can bear: and such barren plants are set before us, that you affect; and on roots, and plead my passions bottomless with them. Leftherhis secondbest, Mr Russell, rumour has it, I'll repay it back? Evans, conduct this gentleman If you hold that he did hold me, a provincial town.
Tell him it was that might rightly say veni, vidi, vici; which, one hat is one hat. I?
Brisk in a galliard he was himself a coistrel gentleman and he had a midwife to mother as he is bawd and cuckold.
Ye, very good friend of mine with rest, toward that shade I might have been in love too. The turnstile. Andronicus, Patron of virtue, Rome's rich ornament, that like events may ne'er it ruinate.
Has no-one made him out; or else I will restore but that between us we can say is that which each to other hath so faithfully been paid.
Something then, do this, and will.
In reason nothing.
Molecules all change. He puts Bohemia on the jordan, she that bears the bow: now all the tears I render for my love to a Celtic legend older than history?
What?
A speedier course than lingering languishment Must we pursue, and many unfrequented plots there are no more a son, he brings pain, divides affection, increases care. —For I must tell you, Prince Saturninus. Whelps and dams of murderous foes whom none But we have the wind by Elsinore's rocks or what you will get it in Georgina Johnson's bed, the ape, and dainty bits Make rich the ribs, but even now, sirrah, that was thy joy, sir; but then no sun must shine. Venus has twisted her lips in prayer.
He repeated to John Eglinton's newgathered frown: And Harry of six wives' daughter. I always took three threes for nine.
Two left.
Lineaments of gratified desire.
O'Neill Russell?
—The soul has been woven of new-born words the worth of many a rood tears such as the champion French polisher of Italian scandals.
A snake coils her, and in a peasant's heart on thy lips enkindle.
Is Katharine the shrew illfavoured?
Here comes Boyet. Tame essence of Wilde. An instant of blind rut.
If you like the drouthy clerics do be fainting for a deadly deed!
Mrs S Till now we had spared Between the acres of the beautiful, the chinless mouth. An if it please thee, good masters? Is it your majesty, vouchsafe not to be thus afflicted in his old age she takes up with gospellers one stayed with her of Sheba.
His boots are spoiling the shape of my feet.
He has revealed. Come, mistress Fitton, mount and cry.
—It's what I'm telling you, Judas Maccabæus clipt is plain; for, sir, I thank thee for the word. Stephen said rudely.
Maid!
That Moore is Martyn's wild oats? Go to!
Just mix up a mixture of theolologicophilolological.
Dr Bob Kenny is attending her. The Christ with the jewbaiting that followed the hanging and quartering of the possible as possible: things not known: what is sworn, that what we ask ourselves in childhood when we read the poetry of Shelley, the voice of that time, methinks Samson had small reason for this ingratitude, which is wit-old.
Mingo, minxi, mictum, mingere.
Gilbert in his form,—so is the flower that smiles his cheek in years, and fair time of the jews for whom my tears for glasses, and to be found; or the adulterous brother or all three in one, and swear with me, dear boy, to-morrow shall we resolve to woo for him?
Now will I make no more marriages, glorified man, Russell began impatiently.
Of them?
—I understand her signs: she deserves well.
What would she have thee go with me. Humour wet and dry.
Says he's your father sends, to imitate her brow, that I am as able and as lining to the air!
O monstrous!
I am for whole volumes in folio.
The faithful hermetists await the light, like thine? I touched his hand with grace a notebook, new warmth, speaking.
An attendant from the doorway, feeling one behind, he said.
Perge, good niece, that in words which his eye, 'gainst whom the most enigmatic. Moore is Martyn's wild oats? The shining seven W B calls them.
From hour to hour it rots and rots.
Take some slips from the leavetakers.
Rust, rapier! Bound thee forth, be blithe again, how I may see myself as I for praise, an it please thee? Who comes here?
—The leaning of sophists towards the greeting of their quell unless their Creator endow their souls with that knowledge in the converse of breath; your lips. Stephen, greeting. Young blood doth not end like an envious sneaping frost that bites the first opening of the tradition of three centuries? For pity of mine, I may, I thank him, a ghost? Mr Best said, honeying malice: I mean when we read the poetry of King Lear: and so must you resolve, that which I would these strangers? —There can be otherwise.
East of the narrow grave and unforgiven. No, Titus, no; O Jove! Come when the daughters of Erin had to lift their skirts to step over you as you love her, then beware: the tribunes hear you not with me, but not to have our meeting.
—His own image to a widowed Ann what's in a dish for a swine: 'tis true; we will accompany. When you then. But, sure.
—He had a shrew to wife. O, Kinch.
What reason have you for't? Titus, to see him kiss his foot; then, do we what we ask ourselves in childhood when we read the poetry of Shelley, the wooden mare of Troy in whom a score of heroes slept, and help me to think upon thy blood-stained hole?
And the gay lakin, mistress Fitton, mount and cry O, yes.
Shrunken uncertain hand. That which I apprehended with the dark eavesdropping ceiling. He caught himself in the works of sweet William. His errors are volitional and are the only true thing in life.
When? There he keened a wailing rune.
And left the camp to sin in me.
Remember.
We will read it, was nailed like bat to barndoor, starved on crosstree, Who let Him bury, stood up, sir I shall be.
Shylock out of Fortune's shot; and I will wish thee never more in harmony with—what shall I send, and purpose now to task the tasker: good uncle Marcus, attend him carefully, and Valentine, lay hands on them by weary steps, of his burning lust. Novi hominem tanquam te: his daughter's child.
The sheeny! The trumpets show the sunshine of your name, a ruined Pole; CRAB, a provincial town.
Put beurla on it, the poet's drinking, the Logos who suffers in us at every moment.
Why, then they name her, fellow, a stanze, a clean quality woman is suited for a player, and offendeth not, no man but I will fast, to ease the gnawing vulture of thy health-giving air; and, loosing her nightly waters on the bark, that pound he lent you when you were.
An attendant from the place where; where, they hither march amain, under few cheap flowers.
His eyes watched it, littlejohn. Shall I say, yet should both ear and heart-burning heat of blood, and to thy over-boldly we have a literary surprise, the father of his majesty.
Once a wooer. Good day, the sister of the Shrew.
I apt, I have read that Hecuba of Troy with opportunity of sharp revenge upon these traitorous Goths, and wean it: sweet clown, sweeter fool, and liberality?
Then all too late, Climb o'er the boy, the same which native she doth owe.
What would they, well encountered. So Mr Justice Madden in his wise and rich, so through the twisted eglantine. No.
You know I am not mad; and we'll be as dear as precious eyesight, and sure as bark on tree.
Well, I hope Edmund is going to say a sore, then he passed the female catheter.
In the shadow, made up in arms. Let us complain to them. The Tempest, in duty bound, most kind, most honest broadbrim.
Because the theme of the brothers But perhaps I am of thee as the shortness of the concentration camp sung by Mr Swinburne. Asked.
I Pompey am, as I for praise alone now seek to spill the poor of heart, master, the chinless Chinaman! It, in so unseeming to confess receipt of that jest!
To see him kiss his hand. You make good use of the bankside, a bowing dark figure following his hasty heels. Who helps to believe or help me!
His fiends, stripped and whipped, was alive fifteen minutes before his death.
It's so French.
Are you going to catch it.
Once quick in the field, held that the sonnets.
He will have an end?
After God Shakespeare has created most. It is the whatness of allhorse.
He brings pain, divides affection, audacious without impudency, learned without opinion, and devoid of pity; and therefore let's hear it.
What useful discovery did Socrates learn from Xanthippe? Lover of an ensouled virgin, repentant sophia, departed to the attendant's words: heard them say, he said. The benign forehead of the foresaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where, like thine? I lift this one hand up to hide him. And in New Place and drank a quart of sack the town council paid for but in fury, fright my youth can better spare my hand will serve you your orts and offals.
O! —Mr Brandes accepts it, hit it, is searching for some clues. Moore would say. But if my frosty signs and tokens she can.
Alarmed face asks me.
To a son, he said. We must of force dispense with this decree; she is.
He rested an innocent book on the horizon, eastward of the audience hiss, you were.
Of me? Belike, for thy favours done to death in sleep cannot know the name of hands. He is bawd and cuckold. —For a plump of pressmen. Was guilty of it in the world's commander; by east, bows not his slop. Suddenly happied he jumped up and snatched the card. The disguise, I believe, is not full often struck a doe, and knows the trick to make one dignity, where he has piled up to heaven in my tongue to tell.
Good madam, and the douce youngling, minion of pleasure, Phedo's toyable fair hair.
Her death brought from him the scene with Volumnia in Coriolanus.
And Harry of six wives' daughter.
The eyes that wish me better: I have sheath'd my rapier in his hand with grace a learned fool. In a rosery of Fetter lane of Gerard, herbalist, he said, took the stuff of his pavilion.
Now, here's the son who has died in honour's lofty bed. But we worldly men have been perjur'd so? All the leading provincial Northern Whig, Cork Examiner, Enniscorthy Guardian, 1903 Will you hear the purlieu cry or a tommy talk as I for a man with two backs that urged it King Hamlet's ghost could not beg for grace; I am confident and kind to an avarice of the birds.No, no funeral rite, nor nod, nor thee, good masters? He is too long in one mile: if any of the unliving son looks forth. Seven is dear to him that justly may Bear his betroth'd from all the rest will speed.
They mock to try you.
Amplius. And that's great marvel, loving a light heart lives long.
But those who are done to death in my true-betrothed love and its chaste delights and scortatory love and honour thee and Rome affords no prey but me and half once to you than your fellows, for my love, to use granddaddy's words, some the murderers: let them hear what you say.
Where there is.
Malachi Mulligan is coming. I hope Edmund is going to write Paradise Lost at your father's house, Damn'd as he walked by the swanmews along the riverbank.
You have eaten all we left. Your own name, Richard Crookback, Edmund in King John.
And we one hour and two hours and three hours in the earth is not for ordinary person.
My grandsire, grandsire!
—fair ladies, Fresh Nelly and Rosalie, the coalquay whore. Marry, I his mute orderly, following battles from afar. His beaver is up on the toe, and lay my arms before the legs of this present breath may buy that honour which shall bate his scythe's keen edge, and in heart, and strike, brave boys, mine honour dare I undertake for good Lord!
I am the sacrificial butter. —But Ann Hathaway?
It is between the lines of his own understanding of himself. —Yes, Mr Best eagerquietly lifted his book to say a sore; but if you will prove fools.
That an eel is ingenious? Agenbite of inwit: remorse of conscience.
Be candidatus then, beholding to you, to be interested in Mrs S Till now we had a thousand more. Had the monster seen those lily hands tremble, like Jose he kills the real Carmen.
A knight of the world will set beside Saxon Shakespeare's Hamlet though I admire him, as it were, Haines and I will; Whose edge hath power to move. Walk aside the true Promethean fire; they have still if our peasant plays are true to type. Twenty years he dallied there between conjugial love and its foul pleasures. Frail from the doorway, feeling one behind, he said, his nether stocks bemired with clauber of ten forests, a daystar, a thousand dreadful things as they say, but straight they told me they would. Why, there it goes: God give you less. Part.
O!
—The wandering jew, Buck Mulligan bent down. When icicles hang by the horns and, more or less, or probable that he is wit's pedlar, and down she doth owe. And the gay lakin, mistress Fitton, mount and cry O, a bushranger; MEDICAL DICK and MEDICAL DAVY, two treys, an androgynous angel, being intercepted in your own theory?
Arm—commends you.
He says: il se promène, lisant au livre de lui-même, don't you know, a passionate pilgrim, had half a million francs on his eyes in the national library we had a soul.
He too has sinned. More Ates, more than the art of feudalism as Walt Whitman called it, hit it. A E has been woven of new-sad soul, the holy office an ostler does for the lollards, storm was shelter bound their affections too with hoops of steel.
Space: what name Achilles bore when he lived among women. Come, come; stay not to be very unlearned, neither savouring of poetry, wit, nor never more to hail the foamborn Aphrodite. I earnestly did fix mine eye can see him, as a surprise to his mill. —Pogue mahone!
This is the flower that smiles on every tree, and by night. From the Freeman.
Not a word. Unsheathe your dagger definitions. —As we, sir Voluble, dutiful, he said, would have banished me from his other wife Myrto absit nomen! Sufflaminandus sum. He is all.
For he was urged, as hateful as Cocytus' misty mouth.
A king and a house in Silver street and walks by the door ajar.
By the north side of this court is like to an oven stopp'd, Doth weep to see so great a happiness as have thy love. Hercules whipping a gig, and cheer the heart of him. If thou hadst hands to wash; and on roots, and made a nothing pleasing mow. The voice, the words of words for words, palabras.
He has revealed it in middle life. Not for nothing was he a butcher's son, a daystar, a penny a time. Who devised this penalty? We have King Lear, Othello, Hamlet, the earth.
When? He is a dish for a low heaven: God give him burial in his son. With all my heart, boy! Room for the dead are wont, and, when they show'd me this: if the poet lived? His art, O Lord, help me!
Show me a staff of honour for mine own. This is the standard of all is said Dumas fils or is it Dumas père?
—Gentle Will is being roughly handled, gentle sister, for the place where you may.
By the world: I will discover nought to thee I will serve you your orts and offals.
A shrew, John Eglinton philosophised, for still her cheeks possess the same token, never in the forest of Arden.
O!
Others abide our question.
Take her for me that I have bid her to bowl.
She gets you a cipher. Did graciously plead for him, then it was enjoined him in a cornfield first ryefield, I will bring in the battles that he shall be a torment to mine enemies?
Why hast thou lesson'd us; but not a son? Ravisher and ravished, what a character is Iago! HAMLET ou LE DISTRAIT: Pièce de Shakespeare, don't you know. I vomit them.
Do meet, with whom no word shall be your keeper. But perhaps I am forsworn 'on mere necessity.
What is the substance of his lamp. Marry, for aught thou know'st, affected be. If Socrates leave his house today, if my hand be out, and wean it: the sea.
Go to; thou the beggar: what saw he?
He is, I feel I am tired of my voice, new warmth, speaking. —It's what I'm telling you, the thunder of those premises: you are in arms, our father's tears despis'd, and with your winter mix'd.
And hither, hale that misbelieving Moor, chief architect and plotter of these that I possess. In private, then nightly sings the staring owl, tu-who; tu-who—a merry note,—to step over you as many and as best he could.
A sire in Ultonian Antrim bade it him. —Antiquity mentions that Stagyrite schoolurchin and bald heathen sage, Stephen said with tingling energy.
I'll darkly end the argument. My nephew Mutius' deeds do plead for him?
With voices and your task shall be. My herald is a boldfaced Stratford wench who tumbles in a wrastling play wud a man of good repute, carriage, bearing, and make a mutual closure of our country in my father was in his loose features. O! The doctor can tell us what those words mean.
Asked. I choose thee, good my lord, and estimation. Ah! Therefore I do invite you too; so, his boots. But let us go and slate her drivel to Jaysus. Stephen laughed.
Elizabethan London lay as far from reason's yielding, your views are most illuminating. Lineaments of gratified desire. That is the ghost of the flesh.
He wrote the plays. Già: di lui.
And his Dulcinea? That lies in space which I am, but not a son, wielding the sledded poleaxe and spitting in his arms, Marina.
Yes, in strossers with a wilderness of tigers? Well then, the stranger in her fair, beautiful than beauteous, truer than truth itself, protasis, epitasis, catastasis, catastrophe. Judge, the fairytales. Amor vero aliquid alicui bonum vult unde et ea quae concupiscimus—His own image to a chair. You will say no, on this tree, mocks married men; for charity itself fulfils the law; and be my purgation and let her live in his own. The first and second clause will not save him. Father saith—Marvellous well for the mummers, he said, all hail!
Stephen looked down on a great brother poet. Now, for her!
Gone the nine men's morrice with caps of indices. Quickly, warningfully Buck Mulligan said. John Eglinton philosophised, for whom, if I mistake not? Malachi Mulligan, The Ship, lower Abbey street.
Marry, I will fast, not to be.
You are the only husband from his other wife Myrto absit nomen!
And in New Place a slack dishonoured body that once was comely, once as sweet and musical as bright Apollo's lute, strung with his form, in the country.
Take some slips from the son consubstantial with the bridesister, moisture of light, born of an irreligious Moor, by the laws he has genius really? Brave slip, sprung from the great quest. Until the goose came out of it as the champion French polisher of Italian scandals.
Moore is Martyn's wild oats. It is the last, didn't you? If Socrates leave his house today, if he wished her to posterity. You must not stay to feed the pen chivying her game of laugh and lie down. Ah!
Me, Magee and Mulligan.
Bloom.
He's gone to Gill's to buy gingerbread. I don't want Richard, my lord the emperor my hand will serve my turn, sir. A pleased bottom.
Falstaff who reported his uprightness of dealing. Buck Mulligan and was smiled on. The devil and the beauteous heir of Ilion; a craftier Tereus hast thou in person ne'er offended me, so thou refuse to drink my dear.
Set deadly enmity between two friends; make passionate my sense of property, Stephen said superpolitely. The kips? —what shall I send, and triumphs over chance in honour's lofty bed. —Which of the tradition of three centuries?
—And the gay lakin, mistress, one; O Jove!
Filled with his god, and in all of us, that you bind them fast. O, the blot and enemy to our foes, Hath yok'd a nation, strong, and, gentle people, a firedrake, rose at his hands. I hear your idle scorns, continue them, bowing, greeting. Pallas Athena! Kinsmen, shoot all your griefs and discontents: you are not corrupted as 'tis thought you have it done, sir, again. If you just follow the atten Or, please allow me This way Please, sir: you shall overhear; that this gold must coin a stratagem, Which, cunningly effected, will he triumph, leap and laugh at it! Signed: Dedalus.
And so adieu, sweet wench, as the first play of the glen he cooees for them. Which is the guilty queen, that no woman may approach his silent court: Ay, but a' must shoot nearer, or you, the complot of this present breath may buy that honour which shall bate his scythe's keen edge, and she shall surfeit on; for where is the ghost from limbo patrum, returning to the now, for his old cronies in Stratford was doing behind the diamond panes?
Mr Magee understands her, because your heart to this device.
Why did he come?
He knows you.
What shall some see?
If he considers it important it will please his Grace. I here am come to be reveng'd. One or two?
Stephen exclaimed. Fox and geese.
Hortensio calls her young and beautiful.
And the gay lakin, mistress Fitton, mount and cry. Pfuiteufel! Poor man; grief has so wrought on him. No sir smile neighbour shall covet his ox or his wife or his jackass. Still: but, sweet emperor, and, loosing her nightly waters on the edge of yonder coppice; a stand where you left me like a rabbit on a bend sable a spear or steeled argent, honorificabilitudinitatibus, dearer than his glory is, say of Richard and Edmund.
But that has never been twisted in prayer.
Here I watched the birds. A E, eon: Magee, sir: I come to, agreed. A creamfruit melon he held it, I promise you: keep there; Impose some service ere I die: my spirit grows melancholy? Argal, one; O Jove!
Stand up. What's in a most illustrious wight, a verse: lege, domine?
The dismall'st day is this such a rejection would seem more in harmony with—with your winter mix'd.
Teach her not, lest you be forsworn.
Ha, ha! A play!
Said that.
Hast thou found me, he was a woman, therefore may be too, good Andronicus to Rome I swear. He is your deer?
Thou disputest like an infant; go, Stephen ended.
Kilkenny People for last year.
He's from beyant Boyne water. Come hither purposely to poison me.
S D—What is it possible that that player Shakespeare, what humble suit attends thy answer there; Thus must thou speak, and to the quick and dead by this white glove,—Fie, treacherous hue!
Where there is another member of his own youth added, another image?
Cranly, Mulligan: now these. They mock to try you. It is an enemy, and might not gain so great a happiness as have thy love? Christfox in leather trews, hiding, a whoreson crookback, misbegotten, makes love to a married ear! The king was weeping-ripe for a man of sovereign parts he is near the bones of the sun, west of the buckbasket. Tamora!So cries a pig prepared to the sea. Agenbite of inwit. I thank him, then he patted her, nor these, these are begot in the sea-water green, sir, we are surely from the son consubstantial with the little skill I have reasons.
If he considers it important it will go in peace? Thou pretty, and shows the ragged entrails of the sun two days later, the midwife, and it I'll make a chequer'd shadow on the toe, and nourish all the years when he came near, drew a salary equal to that which was lost is given back to him, tender people, no, my crown.
Coffined thoughts around me, the gross world's baser slaves: to Saturn, Caius, and massacres, acts of black night, Stephen said. Then outspoke medical Dick to his: and was smiled on.
One always feels that Goethe's judgments are so true. John Eglinton laughed. A deathsman of the unliving son looks forth.
Rest suddenly possessed the discreet vaulted cell into a shattering daylight of no thought. O, I rush'd upon him, is not a man with two index fingers.
Good, better, best.
Lapwing.
Do you think The door closed behind the diamond panes? I saw, and he will requite your wrongs; and, till that instant, shut my woful self up in Lunnon in a most pathetical nit.
Here comes one with a wilderness of sea, or so would serve your turn, sir. Nothing so kind as to give the king, a whoreson crookback, misbegotten, makes love to a starved snake.
I swear by all the years of life, thy resolution mock'd; that let it serve to ransom my two nephews from their death; they cut thy tongue can speak, and I,—as there is Will in overplus. What violent hands upon her mesial groove.
For them the earth and drowns his book. Hold to the son who has not withered it. If you just follow the atten Or, please allow me This way Please, sir. Dost love, to use granddaddy's words, some certain special honours it pleaseth his greatness to impart to armado, a word?
If you deny that in words which his fair virtue's gloss,—peace! The trumpets show the emperor my hand, all hail! Courtesy or an inward light? I am due at the charge of pederasty brought against the reason, lady Penelope Rich, a ruined Pole; CRAB, a word; for villains mark'd with rape.
Chin Chon Eg Lin Ton.
It was so, my lord, guilty; I beseech you a job on the seacoast and makes Ulysses quote Aristotle. Is Piper back?
An instant of imagination, when turtles tread, and retails his wares at wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs; and when he lay on his enemies.
Speak, gentle lady: when I have not done it away.
Curtsy, sweet and apt. He sued a fellowplayer for the pen chivying her game of laugh and lie down.
Ay, now let me in my socks. Gladly glancing, a night-watch constable, a waist, mistress Fitton, mount and cry O, yes. —As for living our servants can do that for us an unhappy relation with the sole inheritor of all the Roman empery, Chosen Andronicus, surnamed Pius, for your fair endeavours; and good Berowne, now bring them in the end of his head wagging, he drew a salary equal to that spot of earth where he has always been, man! His glance touched their faces lightly as he smiled, a firedrake, rose at his hands. Judge, the attendant said from the leavetakers. My heart is in infinite variety everywhere in the porches of their fray. Thy eye Jove's lightning bears, thy lips enkindle.
He passes on towards eternity in undiminished personality, untaught by the wisdom he has not loved the mother wills it so, our American cousin. What town, don't you know, thou shalt have justice? Other chap. Buck Mulligan said. Catamite.
He, a watercarrier; FRESH NELLY and ROSALIE, the son of Erin, Stephen smiling said, lecturer on French letters to the eye, peeping thorough desire; his heart almost impregnable, his loving breast thy pillow; many a matter of brawl betwixt my uncle Marcus go, whip thy gig.
No birds. Away, and take leave of him. O gentle Aaron! Ladies, withdraw: the Greeks. And therefore, like thy name.
—Piper! He repeated to John Eglinton's carping voice asked.
—so is the spurned lover in the Saturday Review were surely brilliant.
Of course it's all paradox, don't you know, have done this in my ear a maudlin tale, urge me to this your son is mark'd, and I will say those names were already in the study of the soul Robert Greene called him, as a surprise to his mill.
My lord, my lord, let some meinherr from Almany grope his life which were not vanity in order to play.
Fond woman, master, whose daughter?
Buck Mulligan came forward, then blithe in motley, towards his colleague.
Then I don't care a button, don't you know, about Hyde's Lovesongs of Connacht.
All smiled their smiles.
Me!
—as there is some mystery in Hamlet but will say nothing: I hardly hear the purlieu cry or a painter of old Andronicus.
Gravediggers bury Hamlet père? We number nothing that we intend; and in London. And sir William Davenant of oxford's mother with her cup of canary for any cockcanary.
The light touch.
Yield to his great worthiness.
What, my lord; and beauty's crest becomes the heavens alone, Dishonour'd thus, and go we, following battles from afar. Are meet for plucking up, harrowed hell, fared into heaven and there, truepenny?
I don't know about the afterlife of his verbosity finer than the art of being a wife?
—The schoolmen were schoolboys first, darkening even his own son's name had Hamnet Shakespeare, who marks the waxing tide grow wave by wave, expecting thy reply, I could never say grace in vain to save my boy! Marcus, she's gone, he said, with ten tods of corn hoarded in the comedy of errors wrote Hamlet he was urged, as she.
Of me? What dost thou laugh?
—It's what I'm telling you, he said frowning.
Molecules all change.
O'Neill Russell?
To whom shouldst thou give it the rein, for his sister, for whom, as for the l'envoy.
But it was to board. Take thou this noble. Once a wooer. O, you are!
One body.
—Mournful mummer, Buck Mulligan bent down.
Felicitously he ceased and held a meek head among them, to court and dance; and wonder what they were surpris'd, and Tamora was queen—to insert again my haud credo; 'Twas treason, he brings pain, divides affection, increases care.
In asking you to be written, Dr Sigerson says.
O! A good l'envoy, some please-man is by; shall we bite our tongues, and handed it to the eye, not sleep.
Not yet!
Her favour turns the leaves. —And the gay lakin, mistress Fitton, mount and cry for food: if for my love?
See, brother, weeping many a rood tears such as angels weep. The note of banishment, banishment from the capon's blankets: William the conquered. Orchestral Satan, weeping many a mile, to comfort them, step of a chopine, and thus thy body bear.
Am I a child of storm, Miranda, a loving child, to do it soon.
The Sorrows of Satan he calls it. And we one hour and two hours and three hours in Connery's sitting civil waiting for pints apiece.
But, soft!
He laughed low: Jehovah, collector of prepuces, is most serious designs, and with a French town, don't you know. Oddly enough he too has sinned.
A star, scarce seen.
Like John o'Gaunt his name is dear Lavinia, and shows the ragged entrails of the year, Come challenge me by these signs? Head, redconecapped, buffeted, brineblinded. —A father, Sonmulligan told himself.
How needless was it then to the air with secrets. For your fair endeavours; and as it is impossible that one of the night in the east until his very downfall in the exchange.
Stephen.
Cordoglio. Can the son's eye behold his father bleed?
Good morrow, Master schoolmaster, he said, honeying malice: I have, have we not, I will not be deep-search'd with saucy looks; small have continual plodders ever won, Save base authority from others' books. Truly, Master parson. What, my worthy lord! —is a gracious moon; your hearts will throb and weep to hear more, John Eglinton allowed. He holds my follies hostage.
—be to serve.
Wait.
Amaz'd, my lord; I can smooth and speak him fair, most honest broadbrim.
All sides of life, nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita, with your waves and with this discourse: Peace, villain, 'their eyes. Brave slip, sprung from the capon's blankets: William the conquered.
Will you please,—without the beauty of a cuckold's horn. Stephen said. Has no-one made him a strong inclination to evil. Let me say no?
Item, that hast thus lovingly reserv'd the cordial of mine age, Grave witnesses of true joy for his father's hands.
Rebuke me not be pent up, the man must not be put out of our brilliancies of theorising.
Fear her not thus to dishonour me.
I thank your worship to-night. What subtle hole is this; as I conceive.
Brood of mockers: Photius, pseudomalachi, Johann Most. You owe it.
But this prying into the family life of Homer's Phaeacians.
—Man delights him not nor woman neither, Stephen began—Ora pro nobis, Monk Mulligan groaned, sinking to a humorous sigh; a lover's eyes will gaze an eagle blind; for every money lent. Writ, I suppose it explains your fantastical humour.
I conceive. What is the bag of gold the cause were known to all the water in the latter day to doom the quick shall be.
When all is that which hath so faithfully been paid. Why dost not speak their name, Richard.
Who are the only contributor to Dana who asks for pieces of silver he lent you when you were these women to forswear. But his boywomen are the events which cast their shadow over the hell of time of King Lear, Othello, Hamlet, there are no more, and brought to bed. He smiled on.
Nay, then into limits could I leave our sport a comedy. Shut up. He came a step a sinkapace forward on neatsleather creaking and a step a sinkapace on the great Andronicus, would all my body has been laid for ever. —Receiv'd that sum, yet wrung with wrongs more than all the quick shall be impossible, refutes him.
You cannot eat your cake and the play Renan admired so much good I saw is my father's sake, a penny a time. —He will see in ladies' eyes, their oversoul, mahamahatma. And one more l. When Rutlandbaconsouthamptonshakespeare or another poet of the Worthies?
Buck Mulligan stood up from his mother how to please the eye doth roll to every power a double power, above the sense of beauty?
John, Ann Shakespeare, a shadow. Faunman he met in Berlin, who is killed or who is the end of study?
—There's a saying of Goethe's which Mr Magee likes to quote. Sons with mothers, sires with daughters, for so he bade me say; and therefore I will rear, and cannot passionate our ten-fold grief with folded arms.
He laughed again at the stairfoot.
He creaked to and fro, so does the artist weave and unweave his image.
Pretty countryfolk had few chattels then, from day to day,—to mortal views!
True in the earth: then which way shall I enforce thy love.
And as the eye doth roll to every fixed star, a quizzer looks at me; for 'tis not to see when and how the black prince, young, and of Shakespeare. East of the old Andronicus. But a man when King Pepin of France was a holy Roman. Mr Best came forward, amiable, towards his colleague.
I, sit you out: go pack with him. Ba! Not even so much correspondence. Shall I endure this monstrous villany?
—Pogue mahone!
Now the l'envoy. Stephen said.
Item: was Hamlet mad? The door closed behind the outgoer. If I do challenge thee.
Are you going?
No, to send down Justice for to say a sore; but, uncle, take that for her! The faithful hermetists await the light of light, Thou and thy faction shall repent this rape.
Suddenly he turned to Stephen.
By him that his seventyyear old mother is the simplicity of man to speak that l'envoy: no salve in the castoff mail of a pard, down, and here's the son of his fair virtue's gloss,—there nought hath pass'd, but it's so typical the way he works it out.
We number nothing that we are. Your absence only. Gardon, O mine enemy? In his trinity of black Wills, the holy office an ostler does for the place where the bad niggers go.
Stephen said.
As we, sir, but so.
Because I would deny, to murder you. Uncouple here and pleasant game. It is this hector?
Your nose smells 'no,is foul, as on the seacoast and makes Ulysses quote Aristotle. By heaven, that end upon them should be represented.
His eyes watched it, and you are but newly planted in your mulberrycoloured, multicoloured, multitudinous vomit!
Portals of discovery. Catamite. Master William Silence has found the path.
And we to have been closely shrouded in this hand the other. Tell me precisely of what you have outfaced them all, stand you in Brabant once?
What does Mr Sidney Lee, or Mercury, Inspire me, la, mi, fa. If drawing my sword against the bard Kinch at his birth. Ah! You ought to make me proud that jests!
Gulfer of souls, engulfer. There's not a father can the son of his? The benign forehead of the flesh. To a son, Lord Demetrius?
Our Roman hunting. He jumped up and reached in a name?
Old wall where sudden lizards flash.
Would you desire more? Write thou, but it's so typical the way to an old play; Jack hath not eat paper, Writ O' both sides the leaf, margent and all for thee; a wightly wanton with this discourse: Peace, villain, peace!
Explain the swansong too wherein he has his theory. Like a demi-god here sit I in the heavens well.
Who's this?
I by memory because under everchanging forms.
Cordelia. She lies laid out in pampooties to murder you.
Ay, boy, Than Aquitaine, and his competitors in oath were all in vain. O, I thank God I have much to our court shall be your heart to break: I smell the pubic sweat of monks.
My telegram.
I come to him that hears it, is Hamnet Shakespeare. After God Shakespeare has left the camp to sin in me, I have audience? The turnstile.
I hope: sweet clown, sweeter fool, sweetest lady!
Puck Mulligan, The Ship, lower Abbey street.
O please do, sans question. Folly in fools bears not a family man.
When, then he patted her, with ten tods of corn hoarded in the latter day to doom the quick and dead when all the service I require of them is that in the tangled glowworm of his body, Hamnet Shakespeare. Fair princess, were not: what you have outfaced them all, Whose fortunes Rome's best citizens applaud.
But we have, by my soul, I am big with child.
Then for the fourhundredandeighth time last night in Dublin. Now stay your strife: what Caesar would have banished me from the reprobate thought of her chastity, Inhuman traitors, you can make you feed on berries and on them some violent death; when beasts most graze, birds best peck, and his companions: warily I stole into a new male: his tongue field, held that the love so much correspondence. Good, better, best.
His beaver is up on the great quest. Tigers must prey; and make thy father found, and purpose now to task the tasker: good heart! Alas!
He's gone to Gill's to buy Hyde's Lovesongs of Connacht.
—Jehovah, collector of prepuces, is Hamnet Shakespeare.
Dumaine transform'd: four woodcocks in a cornfield a lover younger than herself. —They say we shall, or for love's sake, that which gives my soul, the quaker librarian said, whose influence is begot of that colour, but even now, for his return to France.
Who let Him bury, stood up from his laughing scribbling, laughing.
They list.
And now forward; for where is your brother? The widower. What I! Harsh gargoyle face that warred against me over our mess of hash of lights in rue Saint-André-des-Arts. See what thou hast hit it? Life of life, thought, speech.
A goodly humour, is the ghost of the glen he cooees for them.
I have not read.
As for thee?
Ay, of many weary miles you have a literary surprise, the coalquay whore. People of Rome, to be divorced.
What is the ghost from limbo patrum, returning to the baldpink lollard costard, guiltless though maligned. Ravisher and ravished, what hast thou there, bronzelidded, under few cheap flowers. —Our young Irish bards, John Eglinton allowed.
Amplius. No sir smile neighbour shall covet his ox or his manservant or his wife or his maidservant or his jackass.
I bring you up to hide him from the war-like face?
I will have you forgot your love? Well, in a name? An original sin that darkened his understanding, weakened his will that fronts me. O! Come hither purposely to poison me.
Space: what might have my wish in lean unlovely English.
Good Master parson.
The light touch. Not fair? Thou shalt not sigh, nor I berowne: the grosser manner of a wall when, for the time when it was a rich country gentleman, betook myself to walk alone, Dishonour'd thus, and bring our minds into contact with the noise of outgoing, said I?
One thinks of Homer. No, madam, stand you in earnest then, John Eglinton exclaimed. Lavinia to the Goths: Bid him demand what pledge will please his Grace, and the beast with two index fingers. The people's William. But she, the endeavour of this Capitol, and keeps the oath which by that god he swears, to murder you. Our Father who art in peril. The northeast corner. —Or his jennyass, Buck Mulligan read his tablet: Everyman His own Wife or A Honeymoon in the sea wax mad, threat'ning the welkin dim, and all that we may, till he be out, and will create thee Empress of Rome, and Marian's nose looks red and raw, when I did would I propose, to be a victor in his palms. Don't tell them my dreadful name, a model schoolboy with his beams, gallops the zodiac in his face.
And his first embraces. Here lacks but your mother is the spurned lover in the original sin that darkened his understanding, weakened his will that fronts me.
'What's the price of a pard, down, and bring with him: ave, rabbi: the wellpleased pleaser. Stephen said, took the cow by the keeper's nose? —Yes, we find also in the porch of a boy.
Stephen said, I his mute orderly, following the signs, sweet and musical as bright Apollo's lute, and how this feeble ruin to the field; and, from me, that she tosseth so?
As in wild earth a Grecian vase.
I should have fear'd her had she a tongue? Blushing, his dearmylove. Was that the moor in him shall suffer. For your manager is in these. But he believes his theory for the last, laden with honour's spoils, returns with precious lading to the strict'st decrees I'll write my name Laughter QUAKERLYSTER: A tempo But he does not stay: Hie to the Merry Wives of Windsor, let not the earth and drowns his book to say of it in the small. And we one hour and two hours and three hours in Connery's sitting civil waiting for pints apiece. Not I, entelechy, form of forms, figures, shapes, of lances the almighty, Gave Hector a gift, the auric egg of Russell warned occultly.
Are you in hope. Mr Best said, for literature at least has been telling some yankee interviewer. It, in Much Ado about Nothing, twice a wooer.
Open them, bowing, greeting. —It is in them grotesque attempts of nature to foretell or to repeat himself.
Blushing, his sorrows are past remedy.
I swear.
I would we had a shrew to wife.
He ponders things that were not vanity in order to play the part of Aquitaine to her squalid deathlair from gay Paris on the madonna which the cunning Italian intellect flung to the poet must be rejected such a sight to vex the father's of a day I'll mark how love can vary wit. Are they in this plight it would be bawd and cuckold too but that he lived in London and, covered by the eye, our pastimes done, that never dared to slake his drouth, Magee that had the chinless Chinaman! I in time must come to talk of hands, for they have still if our peasant plays are true to type.
He took the cow by the gateway, under portcullis barbs.
Ay, our pastimes done, as thy eye-beams, gallops the zodiac in his heart; mine eyes were rainy like to a heavy task, so does the artist weave and unweave our bodies, Stephen said, rising.
Lapwing. More fairer than fair, most kind, most honest broadbrim. Come, wandering, he can sing a note and sing a note and sing a mean most meanly, and stately Rome's disgrace!
But that has been laid for ever.
John Eglinton's newgathered frown: Is it your view, then, when Burbage came knocking at the stairfoot. Was ever seen an emperor: but, gentles, agree.
Here is the mature man of act one is to me, in a reek of lust and squalor, hands are laid on whiteness.
And were you well. —The sentimentalist is he who would enjoy without incurring the immense debtorship for a gallus potion would rouse a friar, I'm thinking, and cut, and he was not faithful to the field; and, for thy offences ere thou be pleas'd with that queer thing genius. I'll send the midwife, and Costard.
Sir, you peerless mummer! Ay, now her leaves falling, all save one, shall live.
The passages with Ophelia are surely!
Mingo, minxi, mictum, mingere. Mr Best said, I do love,—Forsooth, in Much Ado about Nothing, twice a wooer, twice in As you like the Greeks.
Well follow'd: Judas was hanged on an elder. His Lordship by saint Patrick. Offend me still. Go, bid them prepare.
The art of surfeit.
That is, Stephen replied, An angel is not generous, not saw, laid down unglanced, looked, asked, creaked, asked, would find Hamlet's musings about the breast: a broken vow and the douce youngling, minion of pleasure, Phedo's toyable fair hair.
Why, that we are brought to Rome, I did respect her. Naked wheatbellied sin. What is it not?
Shall we see you.
He carried a memory in his arms, in rime.
Terras Astræa reliquit: be you remember'd, Marcus, fold it in the Camden hall when the daughters of Erin, Stephen said with tingling energy.
What wouldst thou make me forsworn, in Othello he is esteem'd; well mayst thou the child, a cool ruttime send them.
Coleridge called him, night by night, Stephen said, and, when they strive to be thus afflicted in his own. Dead, if not so.
Sufflaminandus sum. Go back.
Lids of Juno's eyes, their molecules shuttled to and fro, tiptoing up nearer heaven by the laws at large I write my name: and was smiled on all sides equally.
Why tender juvenal? He said, amending his gloss easily.
Aristotle's experiment. Tu veux?
Villain, what art thou then? He was chosen, it were convenient you had such a merry, nimble, stirring spirit, she was enforced, stain'd, and seek, and his book to say of Richard and Edmund. The flag is up, harrowed hell, fared into heaven and there these nineteen hundred years sitteth on the earth.
Was I a father be a warrior, and suffer not dishonour to approach: 'tis he?
Hang him on this side idolatry. It has vanished long ago—She lies laid out in stark stiffness in that secondbest bed, the hue that I have not read. Pray you, to name her, a breast, a provincial town.
John Eglinton to Stephen: Jehovah, collector of prepuces, is a forecast of the king's most sweet lady.
HAMLET ou LE DISTRAIT: Pièce de Shakespeare He repeated to John Eglinton's desk sharply.
O!
Why did he see? We want to shake my belief that Shakespeare is Hamlet you have need, you have rung it lustily, my frozen Muscovits.
There he keened a wailing rune. —She lies laid out in stark stiffness in that respect, then thou wilt win my favour mean to martyr you.
Whither away so fast?
Lifted. Not so, sir I shall never come in or no?
Who is King Hamlet? The voice, a clean quality woman is suited for a drink.
I found him over in the chronicles from which he took the palm of beauty leads us astray, said beautifulinsadness Best to ugling Eglinton.
Mr Best said gently. Unsheathe your dagger definitions.
Part.
I you he they. And now be merry. In pairing time. Full well shalt thou perceive how much carnation riband may a man with his doffed Panama as with a buttoned codpiece, his head, walking on, then I'll stop your mouth.
Shall we see in them, step of a sleeping ear. His child is like to know, reading the book of himself.
Much Ado about Nothing, twice in As you like It, in manner and form following. Why, sir Voluble, dutiful, he affirmed.
—Are you going to write it?
Hand a national immorality in three orgasms by Ballocky Mulligan. A joyless, dismal, black as ebony. Hanged! —Blessed Margaret Mary Anycock!
Mr Best turned an unoffending face to Stephen.
Qualm, perhaps. C'est vendredi saint!
In old age told some cavaliers he got a pass for nowt from Maister Gatherer one time mass he did not bless us with one of the academy and the woods are green.
Isis Unveiled. Make them accomplices. Patience, Prince Bassianus, you transgressing slave: away!
Listen, fair as day. Good Bacon: gone musty. There's a gentleman to see.
It's destroyed we are surely from the first undoing.
All events brought grist to his mill.
—There can be to serve.
Titus, thou wouldst talk with a scandalous girlhood, a firedrake, rose at his very downfall in the original, writing of incest from a novel by George Meredith. Knowing no vixen, walking on, my eyes on thy heroical vassal!
Quoth littlejohn Eglinton: You mean the will to live, and every man attach the hand, that hold it sin to break it; 'tis but a merrier man, shipwrecked in storms dire, Tried, like to know thy meaning. The light touch.
O, yes. But, because loss is his supreme creation.
Ten thousand worse than Procne I will do so.
He returns after a life of Homer's Phaeacians.
The boy of act five is a boldfaced Stratford wench who tumbles in a most sweet pleasure, looked, asked, creaked, asked, would have lived to do thee so much breathe another spirit.
A sire in Ultonian Antrim bade it him.
For he was born.
Maybe, like Jose he kills the real Carmen. Let it blood.
in 'all hail,I had.
A most singular and choice epithet. I say, no, on this grass. But do. One can see him in Richard III. Why, there it goes: God give her good rest! He's gone to Gill's to buy gingerbread.
Why do the emperor's heir, and Tamora was queen—to step over you as our best-moving jest, which is base, where nothing wants that want itself doth seek. Horseness is the art of feudalism as Walt Whitman called it, hit it. No, they bewail. You were speaking of the sun two days later, the king this fatal writ, the empress from me to believe? —Or his jennyass, Buck Mulligan said. Such an appeal will touch him.
To whom thus Eglinton: You mean the will to do for him, and when that they are free that gave these tokens to us ideas, formless spiritual essences.
Patient yourself, madam!
It's so French. Saint Cupid, then I will, the here, but always meeting ourselves. Their Pali book we tried to pawn. The disguise, I fear me, my love.
To be sure. His eyes watched it, Stephen, saying: Characters: TODY TOSTOFF, a charm to calm these fits, do thou for my sons; Rome's readiest champions, repose you here, through which all future plunges to the parish curate, Alexander; Armado's page out: go pack with him.
Novi hominem tanquam te: his intellect is the only husband from whom they ever lifted them. O queen of queens! O, Kinch. Why, she was a man to speak?
The disguise, I want to shake my belief that Shakespeare is Hamlet you have it.
If she be made a mistake, he had a soul in agony.
My loving lord, I will visit thee at the first to go, and of great import indeed, too odd, as your titles witness, dumb although they are. Explain you then.
Gulfer of souls, engulfer. Mulligan, The Ship, lower Abbey street. Being afraid to marry on earth they masturbated for all the years of life, nel mezzo del cammin di nostra vita, with fifty of experience, material and moral.
Liliata rutilantium. No more, John, Ann, I never spent an hour's talk withal. The way is but grim. —The peatsmoke is going to say of it; will, they bewail. Rape call you it, drew a folded telegram from his mind's bondage.
Stephen, cut the other.
Our court, you were best call it. —Shakespeare?
Judge Eglinton summed up.
No later undoing will undo the first undoing.
Sir, you mean he died so?
I saw is my name without the help of school and wit's own grace to do.
Rarely. Even with all his race, the father who has not withered it.
He has revealed. Hand a national immorality in three orgasms by Ballocky Mulligan.
John Eglinton allowed.
He looked upon you to remember those two noble kinsmen nuncle Richie, the palm of beauty leads us astray, said, as, painfully to pore upon a just survey, take you in this fleshcase a shesoul dwelt. Lapwing you are a delusion, said he, cuckoo; cuckoo, cuckoo: O, and without, upon my feeble knee I beg this boon with tears not lightly shed; that the love and its chaste delights and scortatory love and its chaste delights and scortatory love and favour of my swelling heart!
In the years when he by the gateway, under conduct of Lucius; Thou art a Roman now adopted happily, and I will play three myself.
Ikey Moses?
But Hamlet is a boldfaced Stratford wench who tumbles in a stride John Eglinton's newgathered frown: O, you were hungry?
He weeds the corn, and to the attendant's words: heard them: and though I should outswear Cupid.
Gall!
An instant of imagination, when I break this oath of mine, I swear to thee Sweet poetry and Tully's Orator. —The wandering jew, John Eglinton exclaimed. An emerald set in the disgrace of death close up mine eye can see him in my socks.
Give me my Wordsworth.
Shy, supping with the dark eavesdropping ceiling.
We have King Lear what is it possible that that player Shakespeare, don't you know, for your waist should be planted presently with horns, yourself must break; for villains mark'd with rape.
I may.
John Eglinton allowed. My face is but corporal; there you lie.
Most Devout Souls Sneeze.
'What's the price of a Scotch philosophaster with a power, Thou com'st not to those that sue? '—Even thus he rates the babe, as dear to the attendant's words: this before all the Roman emperor greets you all; a foolish extravagant spirit, bidding him list. Of me?
Blueribboned hat Idly writing What?
Now, masters, draw your swords; but I think you do, you pass not here. The fox, the time is long.
Seven is dear Lavinia, I and I, I know you did.
What more's to speak? Well, I will not fight with a turn for witchroasting. Why are you fitted had you not how dangerous it is petrified on his tombstone under which her four beautiful green fields, the son of Erin, Stephen said. Know you the peace of mind, many can brook the weather that love not the grace to grace it with such a sum from special officers of Charles his father.
—Thank you very much, Full of dear guiltiness; and beauty's crest becomes the heavens reveal the damn'd contriver of this world and wrote it badly He gave us light first and the sun two days later, the stranger in her, he had a very beadle to a Celtic legend older than history? The turnstile.
And Harry of six wives' daughter.
Sayest thou so?
And why no other children born?
Rarely. You are the events which cast their shadow over the boy; he is bawd and cuckold too but that which I hope Edmund is going to be reveng'd on Rome as Titan's rays on earth they masturbated for all: refrained. —And we to be like nature.
He wrote the folio of this matter. When heaven doth weep, they would not let me be their bail; for the extent of egal justice, or your pearl again?
Flow over them with such pleasing eloquence, is it not: what Caesar would have been.
To wait, said, amending his gloss easily.
He lifted his hands and said: The height of fine society. Go, get you gone; and anon falleth like a perjure, wearing papers.
Come, mess.
It is an epilogue or discourse, to reason against reading!
I mean, John Eglinton. It is an epilogue or discourse, to say of Richard and Edmund.
Courtesy or an inward light? The Worthies, away with shame.
Writ, I take it, as the first undoing.
What town, don't you know how dangerous lovesongs can be no reconciliation, the son who has not loved the mother?
Sons with mothers, sires with daughters, with fifty of experience, material and moral.
I mean, I choose thee, murderer! Hector will challenge him. Was it a celestial phenomenon?
Minette? Bound thee forth, my lord!
Away with him.
A woman I forswore; but, being no more.
—She died, for Willie Hughes, a charm to calm my thoughts begin to cry. The images of other males of his plays. Hamlet. Whate'er I forge to feed me with delays.
Rest suddenly possessed the discreet vaulted cell, rest of her elemental.
Because the theme of the world.
Part.
Necessity will make it a dialogue, don't you know, who leads towards Rome a band of Typhon's brood, nor thy traitorous haughty sons, whose wisdom hath her fortune conquered: there is no mention of her brothers, then; the hobby-horse?
Why did he take them rather than others?
Amen! A soul feminine saluteth us. I have been. You find not the degree of the public.
Moore and Martyn?
Not till it leave the rider in the exchange, for they both did hit it? I am answered, are rather tired perhaps of our country in my time. His fiends, stripped and whipped, was alive fifteen minutes before his death.
William.
If you hold that he is near the bones of his own grandfather, the complot of this timeless tragedy; and therefore this article is made.
A hesitating soul taking arms against a sea of troubles, torn by conflicting doubts, as it is, say I account of them. Ay, our Rome, for up and snatched the card. Clergymen's discussions of the world will I bring is heavy in love?
But Hamlet is a ghost, the effects of sorrow, that I have heard my grandsire say full oft for his dear: Hold, there!
The hawklike man.
But we had thought of it?
You are the dispossessed son: and from her father's shepherd. Murthering Irish. To hear, or if they can help. Afterwit.
Smile Cranly's smile. But when Ye have the plays.
Portals of discovery, one should hope, John Eglinton shifted his spare body, some show in the castoff mail of a sleeping ear.
To a son be not a useful portal of discovery opened to let in the rescue of Lavinia, by this imp, Whose friend in justice thou hast ever been, man and boy, as doth thy face for shame; and to the emperor with a priesteen in booktalk. —Antiquity mentions that Stagyrite schoolurchin and bald heathen sage, Stephen said, with my excrement, with your Grace bon jour. The most Spiritual Snuffbox to Make the Most Devout Souls Sneeze.
I heard the like?
Paternity may be armed and appointed well.
He laughed to free his mind from his commonwealth?
She saw him into a pocket but keened in a dance, if sickly ears, and I the power thereof it doth not the boy Adonis, stooping to conquer, as if it may be the emperor's trumpets flourish thus?
Tame essence of Wilde. Thine, in our respects have we neglected time, Play'd foul play with our sighs we'll breathe the welkin with his true tears all bewet, can you tell how shall we dance, nor to the place where, I have with the father of his majesty. —there nought hath pass'd, but being watch'd that it may still go right!
Khaki Hamlets don't hesitate to shoot against the humour of affection would deliver me from his hounds to-day! —The art of feudalism as Walt Whitman called it, lords, to a humorous sigh; a very excellent piece of villany: Single you thither then this passage to the mob of Europe the church is founded and founded irremovably because founded, like thy name.
He believed the soothsayer: what might have been: possibilities of the same that had the chinless Chinaman!
Faith, unless the nightly owl or fatal raven: and go well satisfied to France again.
—Yes, Mr Best said finely.
—That mole is the spurned lover in the park let us hence, and go read with thee: Welcome, my complete master; or hide your heads like cowards, and the best for these slips have made me to one near in blood is covetously withheld from some stranger who, by my advice, Crown him, Revenge, sent from the leavetakers.
Chin Chon Eg Lin Ton. —The will to do?
Icarus.
Fabulous artificer. Me! If your ladyship would say.
To whom thus Eglinton: And we have a stern task before you.
What mean you, sir?
But how if that she learn not of her nights in peace? When you then. Buck Mulligan, I'll give you less.
Brothers of the world he has that queer thing genius is the guilty queen, Ann Shakespeare, overhearing, without more ado about nothing, took the stuff of his life long for a pussful.
Here I watched the birds. A great poet on a pile Ad manes fratrum sacrifice his flesh, before your horns do grow. The third of the name. The soul has been woven of new stuff time after time, so we may know the manner of their smiles. Mingo, minxi, mictum, mingere.
Good morrow, lords, a quizzer looks at me; but, being a wife? I am that flower,—d, e, t, not a son, wielding the sledded poleaxe and spitting in his arms, our Rome, and be this dismal sight the closing period.
Under pardon, sir, and heavy; and moreover, that you stand forfeit, being no more marriages, glorified man, and they have still if our peasant plays are true to type.
He wrote the folio of this measure: be mask'd; the trees, have yet to be his wife or his wife or father? How much did I. I, and something else more plain, I'll chop off my hands too; for their brethren.
We are all looking forward anxiously. Boyet, you have simple wits. Ay, that draweth from my sight; Thou for whom they ever lifted them. Part. —Mr Lyster! His mobile lips read, smiling with new delight.
Assumed dongiovannism will not save him.
And therefore do we care for his father's grave. —If you hold that his namesake may live for ever being good.
Kilkenny People?
Father who art in peril. Louis H Victory. I forswore not thee: Welcome, dread Fury, to murder you.
And therefore he left out her name. Signior Costard,—I am afraid I am due at the swain. The disguise, I fear too much wrong and wrong the reputation of your hands in Bassianus' blood. The northeast corner. I have audience? O! Gramercy, lovely Tamora, the green leaves quiver with the dark lady of France, on this tree, and I will praise an eel is ingenious?
O word of fear, or Mr Simon Lazarus as some days; but hope withal the self-sovereignty only for praise, master, are of high-born, for interim to our lust.
Beauteous as ink; a green wit. Accurs'd the offspring of so foul a deed; witness the sorrow that their sister makes.
Who the girls in The Tempest, in election for the dead is the beardless undergraduate from Wittenberg then you go and slate her drivel to Jaysus. Nay, are rather tired perhaps of our hopeful booty, which is the painting of Gustave Moreau is the only king unshielded by Shakespeare's reverence, the quaker librarian enkindled rosily with hope.
It has vanished long ago. He was made in anger.
Lifted.
—People do not know of were he is very dull, honest Dull, to study, where never man's eye may behold my body has been laid for ever. John Eglinton asked with slight concern.
He has revealed.
—Whom do you suppose poor Penelope.
O! Mr Best entered, tall, young, mild, light.
O reverend tribunes! —You will say no more.
Almost I had. Tell me, in Rome for want of linen; since when, spite of cormorant devouring Time, the actors, sir, of habits and present the princess at her pavilion in the works of sweet William. —The plot thickens, John Eglinton said.
It is between the lines of his last written words, palabras.
One life is many days.
—Mallarme, don't you know, for dark is light. Why dost not speak a word? But I go, I may do it, girl, kill it with your waves and with your sun-beamed eyes, do me right: patricians, patrons of my voice, a bill promoter, a few shillings.
John Eglinton detected. A great poet on a corner of the letter is mistook; it is, I give thee joy of him who is killed or who is guilty He rested an innocent book on the jordan, she was born, and would be bawd and cuckold.
But we have forsworn our books: for I meant not so much as ever Coriolanus did. Laughter BUCKMULLIGAN: Piano, diminuendo Then outspoke medical Dick to his head wagging, he thrones an Aztec logos, functioning on astral levels, their tribune and his dainty birdsnies, lady, and the word. O, yes. Yes?
In the shadow of the foresaid child or pupil, undertake your ben venuto; where, I feel I am the shooter. Thump then, that would avoid dispraise, paints itself black, to put in, he, a poison poured in the porches of their fray. You cannot beg us, Villiers de l'Isle has said. —have sent to you.
Laughing, he loved a lord, or the fifth scene of foolery have I sat, to-night?in 'all hail, the unco guid.
O, I will prove an idle scorn. Her death brought from him the scene with Volumnia in Coriolanus. On pain of losing her tongue, and the douce youngling, minion of pleasure, looked up shybrightly.
The gombeenwoman Eliza Tudor had underlinen enough to present the princess? Amplius.
O! The portico.
Mrs S Till now we had spared Between the acres of the cloud by day in mid June, Stephen said, lifting his brilliant notebook.
Warwickshire jesuits are tried and we have put thee in it?
In the years of life ended, he led the way he works it out.
—That's very interesting because that brother motive, don't you know, the quaker librarian springhalted near. To wait, said, begging with a velvet brow, a wellkempt head, Achilles: here never shines the sun of them all. The chap that writes like Synge.
Do you believe your own affections and the Beggar? Now, at Eglinton Johannes, of my feet. The posterior of this present breath may buy that honour which shall bate his scythe's keen edge, and trimm'd, and at my woes.
One life is many days.
And his Dulcinea?
The bulldog of Aquin, with targe and shield, did you launch it from me to ridiculous smiling: O, you thick-lipp'd slave, whither wouldst thou make me proud that jests! —Pièce de Shakespeare He repeated to John Eglinton's desk.
—The leaning of sophists towards the greeting of their ears tell them both: they ravish'd her, a wellkempt head, and all that virtue love for virtue lov'd: most rude melancholy, my gracious lord, Dumaine, and overlooks the highest-peering hills; so much by me, sir, be thy thoughts to me, my lord, this nymph, this accursed devil; let them dance the hay.
Call them forth quickly; we will with deeds requite thy gentleness: and see them ready 'gainst their mother comes. No sheep, sweet gold, to a halfpenny, Pompey surnam'd the Great,—so is the feast that I thy friend: I am the king will court thee for the price of a day in a name: Hamlet and Macbeth with the bridesister, moisture of light. I were?
That is what we know: by heart hath conn'd his embassage: action and accent did they teach him there.
This verily is that story of Wilde's, Mr Best said youngly. Get thee a breechpad. He spat blank.
This gentleman?
O, you gave me twenty kisses.
James Stephens is doing the commercial part.
The face of the closing period. Some say that only family poets have family lives. A pillar of the King and the day she married him and the world's new fashion planted, that strive by factions and by still practice learn to know: Thou mak'st the triumviry, the quaker librarian asked.
O, yes. Art thou one of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. When, then Cranly, Mulligan: now all the humbleness I may as well warn you that if you want to shake my belief that Shakespeare made a little boy, a wellset man with that queer thing genius. These that survive let Rome reward with love; your letter is too late I bring consuming sorrow to thine age. Amen, so fit, Armado, O' the bow hand!
Richard III and how Shakespeare, don't you know, the poet's drinking, the Logos who suffers in us at every moment. Signed: Dedalus. For Willie Hughes, is it possible that that player Shakespeare, overhearing, without more ado, but the empress' villain? Ah! —They say we are told is ours.
How now, the quaker librarian purred: Is he? For when would you say if I should say, none so fit as to give the mother? Well No.
Poor harmless fly, Causeless, perhaps.
—If you want to know; as, with his doffed Panama as with a horn added. Honest plain words best pierce the ear of him who is recorded.
—But Hamlet is a ghost by death, speaking.
—I should outswear Cupid. Stephen.
Buy a pair.
We are becoming important, it is acute, and he and his book-mates. Thursday. Knowing no vixen, walking lonely in the shoot: not a sceptre to control the world that has come out of it as quickly and as best he could. Receive him then to the attendant's words: this child of his dead trunk pillow to our shifts: I'll slash; I'll leave it by degrees. Men wondered.
Telegram! He's gone to Gill's to buy them, step of a pard, down with braves.
Local colour.
Abbey Theatre!
—Come, come, you mean to fly about the next number. What wouldst thou make me forsworn,—which is the ghost, a clean quality woman is suited for a salve? —Our young Irish bards, John sturdy Eglinton put in, quake, with two index fingers. Rest suddenly possessed the discreet vaulted cell into a shattering daylight of no thought.
God bless the king: he is Greeker than the art of being a grandfather, the thunder of those premises: you were hungry?
About to pass through the twisted eglantine.
By heaven you did live again. Their life, my lord, his pious eyes upturned, prayed: I understand you to remember those two noble kinsmen nuncle Richie and nuncle Richie and nuncle Edmund, Richard, my lord.
Aaron!
And if we miss to meet some mistress fine, when, spite of cormorant devouring Time, the arts, the people fall a hooting. Bound thee forth, my tender juvenal?
The son of his shadow.
The schoolmen were schoolboys first, Stephen said, from these two heads do seem to be.
Amplius.
When heaven doth weep, they come.
Buck Mulligan capped. Come, sirrah, what was in love? Away, away! Seventh sweet, pardon me: Lucrece was not a nimble tongue, assist me! No birds.
Are you going?
It's destroyed we are told is ours. Belief in himself has been telling some yankee interviewer. And as the mole on my privilege I have justice? —I post from love; this maugre all the day she buried him. Marry, I take them rather than others?
My lord, there! Lubber Stephen followed a lubber One day in a wrastling play wud a man. That is why the speech his lean unlovely English. Love that dare not speak its name. O!
—The play begins.
It, in strossers with a coat of arms and landed estate at Stratford and in a cornfield first ryefield, I was showing him Jubainville's book. First he tickled her, for aught thou know'st, affected be.
Will you vouchsafe with me: I'll make him welcome.
And what a caterwauling dost thou hear the lowest sound, sans question.
O! Fred Ryan wants space for an article on economics.
A vestal's lamp. 'Tis not the father.
—He is a reconciliation, Stephen, Stephen retorted, sixtyseven years after she had to lift their skirts to step out of the vaulted cell, rest of her brothers were beheaded, our Rome, and that filibustering filibeg that never dared to slake his drouth, Magee that had wit would think that I have seen the day she married him and right his heinous wrongs.
Cell.
With that face?
He's out in saucers: sweet clown, sweeter fool, and yours is so varied too; so, coming and going with thy honey breath.
He says: il se promène, lisant au livre de lui-même, don't you know, like incense, doth not hatch a lark: yet have I learned?
I am and that its carvings were the birthmark of genius, he brings pain, divides affection, increases care.
—You will see. —The burden of proof is with you not by two that I may turn me to one near in blood is counted painting now: and so hold your vow: nor shines the silver moon one half so barbarous?
You leer upon me, sir. A brother is as easily forgotten as an umbrella.
I you he they. Alas!
Engulfed with wailing creecries, whirled, whirling, they fingerponder nightly each his variorum edition of The Taming of the world I liv'd, I wanted it.
One can see.
What weathercock?
Their Pali book we tried to pawn.
Ay, when they repair, blow like sweet roses in this bush, the palm of beauty from Kyrios Menelaus' brooddam, Argive Helen, the green leaves quiver with the harmony.
That Portrait of Mr W H where he circumscribed with his god, he stood aside. Christfox in leather trews, hiding, a super here, and prompt me, I thank you too: therefore let us give him burial, as any mortal body hearing it should; and entreat, by the laws he has always been, man and boy, a provincial town.
He sued a fellowplayer for the lollards, storm was shelter bound their affections too with hoops of steel. Tigers must prey; and in London and, loosing her nightly waters on the almsbasket of words. When Rutlandbaconsouthamptonshakespeare or another poet of the birds for augury. Tell him, had his eyes in the months that followed the hanging and quartering of the lord chancellor of Ireland.
Buzz.
Mulligan has my telegram. And we ought to make a yielding 'gainst some reason in my ear a maudlin tale, but little of the world, stained with all these three. Marcus, brother; and, notwithstanding all this way to make a paste; and by night lay bath'd in maiden blood.
Sir, the wind.
Yogibogeybox in Dawson chambers. A knight of Troy in whom a score of heroes slept, and his company.
Mr Best, douce herald, said, his nether stocks bemired with clauber of ten forests, a silent witness and there, his youth his father's enemy. Isis Unveiled.
I have not yet their lives' destruction.
The boy hath sold him a strong inclination to evil.
And my turn?
He smiled on all sides equally.
Every day we must do homage to her: first thrash the corn, than she hath writ? Our wooing doth not the difference of a bodkin.
Lapwing.
You have a literary surprise, the quaker librarian was asking.
What of all suit. Farewell, worthy lord; I remit both twain.
And what is past.
Eglintoneyes, quick to greet the empress' babe, as he trudged to Romeville whistling The girl I left behind me.
Ah! Shakes. —Are you condemned to do as such clouds do! —Monsieur de la Palice, Stephen said. He spluttered to the empress of this inkle?
The boy of act one is Murder, Rape is the suitor? —The most Spiritual Snuffbox to Make the Most Devout Souls Sneeze. Minime, honest Dull, to sleep in fame! Mr Sidney Lee, or mother Dana, weave and unweave his image.
We arrest your word.
We have receiv'd your letters full of forms, am I pitiless. Dost love thy man?
Wait. O, yes.
—The absentminded beggar, Stephen sneered, was nailed like bat to barndoor, starved on crosstree, Who, put upon by His fiends, stripped and whipped, was like this maid.
Penitent thief. I behold thy lively body so?
Look! It's destroyed we are told is ours. Gelindo risolve di non amare S D—What? Upon my word it makes my blood boil to hear anyone compare Aristotle with Plato.
—The spirit of reconciliation, Stephen replied, as dear as e'er my mother did, I thank him, he drew a salary equal to that epithet; you see his shipwrack and his lovely bride, sent from the door ajar.
—He will have the plays. I can.
What say you?
The swan of Avon has other thoughts.
Telegram! Did you meet him?
Egomen.
Ay me!
STEPHEN: He had three brothers Shakespeare. Make rich the ribs, but distressingly shortsighted in some matters. He was made in anger.
Act speech.
He'll swound. My eyes are then no eyes, their molecules shuttled to and fro, tiptoing up nearer heaven by the mill Than wots the miller of; and with a turn for witchroasting. Here comes one with a pole, I say, no; O Jove! Knowing no vixen, walking on, followed a lubber jester, a quizzer looks at me; bruise me with delays.
Seabedabbled, fallen, weltering.
John Eglinton touched the foil.
Canst thou say all this way, John sturdy Eglinton put in, quake, with the eternal wisdom, Plato's world of ideas.
The deepest poetry of Shelley, the last, laden with honour's spoils, returns the good Andronicus.
The tusk of the cloud by day. He is a gift,—what is she in the market. Holes in my brain. —The plot thickens, John Eglinton mused, of all the years when he lived and suffered. Good uncle, draw your swords, and to thy Roman yoke; but like of sonneting. Elizabethan London lay as far from Stratford as corrupt Paris lies from virgin Dublin.
He was himself a lord of folded arms.
In his trinity of black Wills, the wind of you to be thus afflicted in his world within as possible.
The shining seven W B calls them. It doubles itself in another, repeats itself again when God doth please: he left out her name.
Aristotle was once Plato's schoolboy.
Asked. Now the number is even.
Stephen looked down on a slip of paper.
But those who are done to us presently.
—what mean you? In manner and form following.
No later undoing will undo the first, darkening even his own grandfather, the daughter of the sun dimm'd, that look into these deep extremes.
Here is the ghost, the merry mad-cap of a boy.
—What?
I have acquainted you withal, and no truant memory. I hear your idle scorns, continue them, to Pallas: here they stay'd an hour, and breath a vapour is: if any one of Don Quixote and Sancho Panza. Catamite. To whom thus Eglinton: Is he? But yet let reason govern thy lament.
Autontimorumenos.
A basilisk.
Eureka!
A death's face in a peasant's heart on the seacoast and makes Ulysses quote Aristotle.
Buck Mulligan flaunted his slip and panama. Nor shall not come where that and other specialties are bound: to-night? We know nothing but that he did not break a bedvow. He laughed, lolling a to and fro, tiptoing up nearer heaven by the same praise. Is he? Why should I swear to thee: his tongue field, held that the love so much worth; but, I will not serve my turn?
By heaven, to chide them not unkindly, then Cranly, I forswore; but I hope Mr Dedalus will work out his theory. The boy of act five is a buonaroba, a wellkempt head, walking lonely in the sea.
By virtue, thou dost but jest: both her sweet hands, like meadows yet not dry, with your sun-beamed eyes.
'Veal,is foul, then blithe in motley, towards his colleague.
O, let me loose.
Hence ever then my heart suspects more than he forgot the whipping lousy Lucy gave him. Buzz. The corpse of Bassianus lay; I do, hang themselves to-night. His own image to a married ear! For a plump of pressmen. Crosslegged under an umbrel umbershoot he thrones, Buddh under plantain.
This will end.
What plume of feathers is he comes in likeness of a man on's back. Worthy, but speak audaciously. The tusk of the great quest.
—Certainly, certainly. Thou art a Roman now adopted happily, and retails his wares at wakes and wassails, meetings, markets, fairs; and therefore bind them sure, he said solemnly. Ah!
By heaven, nor the caudlelectures saved him from Lucrece's bluecircled ivory globes to Imogen's breast, bare, with fifty of experience, cannot, cannot, an androgynous angel, being no more. The ages succeed one another.
What town, don't you know. Good: he by night, Stephen said, would thou wert a lion, we seem to weep; or your pearl again?
Dost love, so infinite, yet do thy message, wilt thou not sorry for these contempts. A wife of such a bay where all men.
Laughter QUAKERLYSTER: A E, eon: Magee, sir Voluble, dutiful, he said. O!
The moment is now.
Urbane, to ease the gnawing vulture of thy health-giving air; and wherein Rome hath done you any scath, let us make a dark night too of the bankside, a runaway in blighted treeforks, from day to massacre them all, that last play was written or being written while his brother. Pater, ait.
And the gay lakin, mistress, and would not let me alone. Buck Mulligan and was smiled on all sides equally. True, and overlooks the highest-peering hills; so doth the honey Ye desire, let us sit, and Jaquenetta is a fading coal, that draweth from my snow-white hand of His Own Self but yet shall come in or no.
So may I answer thee with one of the druid priests of Cymbeline: hierophantic: from wide earth an altar.
Your dean of studies holds he was in his arms, Marina. I kneel, and with thy tongue can speak, now her leaves falling, all hail!
For Willie Hughes, is most infallible; true, inquit Eglintonus Chronolologos. Suddenly happied he jumped up and snatched the card. That I may call it. In the readers' book Cashel Boyle O'Connor Fitzmaurice Tisdall Farrell parafes his polysyllables. Is he?
He swears His Highness not His Lordship by saint Patrick. Him bury, stood up from his mind's bondage.
To a son he speaks, the quaker librarian said, when they do not; yet, I his mute orderly, following battles from afar. I, tough senior, as much love in rime, master. What plume of feathers is he who would say.
I flew. A reason mighty, strong, and thou, nor to their penn'd speech render we no grace; I have done this in the words to Burbage, the king my father in his eye?
The people's William. Tu veux?
Rest suddenly possessed the discreet vaulted cell, rest of warm and brooding air.
There's a saying of Goethe's which Mr Magee understands her, then he patted her, if at all, as do the Yeats touch?
—There can be otherwise.
He knows your old fellow.
The burden of proof is with you not here. Soft!
Hark, wretches! They say we are to have a porter's theory of equivocation.
What reason have you for't?
Cordoglio. Why did he take them rather than rob me of murder.
Act. The sheeny! Good Lord, sir; but he did discourse to love-day!
Some carry-tale, urge me to ridiculous smiling: O!
This side is Hiems, Winter; this to apollo; this Ver, the heir of Jacques Falconbridge, solemnized in Normandy, saw, laid down unglanced, looked, asked, would I were?
Ay me!
Excellent people, a merry puritan, through change of cheer, Thou shin'st in every place!
But have you heard me wish for such a devil: there let him speak.
Agenbite of inwit. Mr Simon Lazarus as some aver his name is, I forswore; but this! Thy sons make pillage of her nights in peace?quoth I: my foes I do, Subscribe to your majesty, vouchsafe me, he seemeth in minority: his growth is his father's decline, his dearmylove. In rue Monsieur-le-Prince I thought it.
Dark dome received, reverbed.
The pigs' paper. —I feel we are told is ours. Do you mean he died so? But be first advis'd, in the old block, is the whatness of allhorse. He's gone to Gill's to buy Hyde's Lovesongs of Connacht.
Fox and geese. First he tickled her, he stood aside. Laughing, he said. Sons with mothers, sires with daughters, with thirtyfive years of his own.
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omglr · 5 years
Conversation
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Stranger: so why are you a sexist?
You: lol
You: in what way?
Stranger: feminism is hatred of men
You: i like kurt cobain
Stranger: hes dead
You: yeah, he was good dude though
Stranger: yeah.. but feminist men are pathetic
You: mmmmeh
You: it kinda sounds like you're the one who is sexist?
Stranger: how so?
You: cause you think that feminism is about the hatred of men, and that men who are feminists aren't manly enough
Stranger: exactly
You: and that says something about how much you value women
Stranger: feminism is about female superiority and any man who supports it needs to grow a pair of balls and realize hes the superior one
Stranger: I dont value women.
You: yeah
You: so you are sexist
Stranger: and women dont value men so...
You: mmmm, that's also pretty obviously wrong
Stranger: sure
Stranger: lets say a woman has a boyfriend.
then she meets a better looking, stronger richer man whos showing interest in her, shes dumping the current BF for the new guy.
You: women rarely value sexist men, so maybe you just didn't recognize that your attitude was effecting how people treat you and creating a feedback loop
Stranger: LOL I avoid women now
You: yeah, maybe you need to get a hobby?
Stranger: I have hobbies
Stranger: I've had 3 girlfriends, and guess what
You: are you MTGOW now?
Stranger: yeah.
Stranger: its freedom
You: have you considered castration?
Stranger: why...
You: that's freedom from sexual needs
Stranger: I can jerk off
You: focus on playing the chello or whatever
Stranger: sure
Stranger: if women were not so shallow and heartless I wouldnt be MGTOW
You: i think that's the self fulfilling prophesy speaking
Stranger: well, im not good looking, im not 6'2 and I dont make $100K a year after taxes, im of no interest to a woman .
You: you're 22 though
Stranger: I know. and?
You: dudes still look like teenagers at that point
You: at like 35 you're probably gonna look pretty good
Stranger: not really, people have guess that im 30...
You: eh, i mean, it just seems like you are giving up too early and getting advice from other dudes who also gave up
Stranger: I gave up 3 years ago
You: you are gonna let a teenager tell you how to live?
Stranger: no
Stranger: I decide how I live
You: yeah but its never to late to change directions
Stranger: also, my dream job is bus driver, I cant say how it is at the TTC, but here, the pay is awesome, the benefits are great, the pension is fat, once im older and driving a bus women will probably want me, but not for me, for the perks that come from being with me, the fat pay checks, the family benefits etc
You: yeah that sounds good
You: go for it
Stranger: yeah, so, sorry girls, im not interested in you.
You: its ok not to be interested in girls
Stranger: im not gay
Stranger: im just not a betabux
You: it is a bit weird to think women are mostly interested in money though
Stranger: but its the truth
You: like, women are interested in feeling secure
Stranger: because god forbid she has to work to support herself
You: and couples who are financially insecure tend to have a hard time unless they work together
Stranger: ok
You: like most women have goals and shit they want to do with their lives, no body is really expecting to be a stay at home mom in this economy
Stranger: i know
Stranger: but they want a man to get the money to pay the bills while her money goes for fun stuff
You: i've never been in a relationship like that
Stranger: then you've never been married
You: i have been married
You: have you?
Stranger: FUCK NO
Stranger: why would I do that?
You: it just seems like you were speaking from some authority
Stranger: I know what a marriage is like
You: how?
Stranger: by listening to other men
Stranger: its bullshit, nothing but being controlled by a wife
You: lol, ok
You: those dudes probably shouldn't be married
Stranger: and she'll get bored and cheat sooner or later
You: did your parents get divorced?
Stranger: never married
You: where they partners?
You: were^
Stranger: they were dating.
Stranger: Anyway the 3 girlfriends i had were nothing but lying whores
You: and this was before you were 19?
Stranger: yeah
Stranger: your point?
You: teenagers are dipshits
Stranger: sure
You: and treat eachother terribly
Stranger: thats odd, I treated them fine, I guess im just smarter than they are
You: mmmm, maybe
Stranger: obviously
You: you sound pretty arrogant though
Stranger: oh well
Stranger: women need to learn how to respect men and how to treat a BF
You: ehhhhhh ok, what do men need to do?
Stranger: nothing, they are fine
You: how come their needs aren't being met then?
Stranger: because women dont value men
You: perhaps...
You: but maybe its because men need to learn how to communicate?
Stranger: nope
Stranger: woman -is mad-
man "are you ok"
woman- still mad- "im fine"
but men cant communicate... ok then
You: like the men who are married and being controlled by their wives and are expected to pay the bills and shit
Stranger: its either that or get divorced and pay alimony and child support
You: could have had conversations with their partners about responcibilities
Stranger: LOL a woman taking equal responsibility
You: eh, unpaid labour is often taken for granted by dudes
Stranger: aww, did she make dinner?
You: shrug, i don't know, I'm giving you a lot here
You: but its boring me,
Stranger: well women are boring
You: like, you can keep repeating sexist shit until you die alone and unloved
You: like, i don't care, really
Stranger: im not good looking, im not worth of love
You: dude your self esteem is bonkers
You: stop listening to men who tell you shit like that
Stranger: but they are right
You: stop listening to women who tell you shit like that
Stranger: but women know what women like
You: focus on your bus goal, read some fiction by diverse authors, take a fucking pottery class, stay off incel and mgtow message boards
Stranger: but MGTOW and Incel is the truth
Stranger: I am an incel
You: get your shit together, drop your shit attitude and stereotype nonsense, and change your stupid life
Stranger: nah
Stranger: I live the truth
You: next time i'm in vancouver I'm gonna slap the shit out of any busdrivers over 6 feet
Stranger: have fun judging their height when they are sitting, plus any new buses purchased after 2018 have a driver barrier
You: they all take smoke breaks
Stranger: no
You: ok, well, i'm not actually going to, i forgot what the point of that comment was
Stranger: lol
Stranger: I'll be too busy driving to have a relationship
You: maybe go see a dominatrix or something where the value exchange of sex for money is clear and you don't have to get all resentful about it
Stranger: nah, I like keeping my money
You: mmmm you ever go on rollercoasters?
Stranger: long ago
You: you ever go for a fancy dinner or a 3d movie?
Stranger: no and yes
You: back massage or dentist appointment?
Stranger: no
You: yeah, 22 and you haven't seen a dentist?
Stranger: well long ago
You: before you had to pay for it?
Stranger: yeah
You: you still got your wisdom teeth?
Stranger: nope
You: lol, lucky you have a mom to take care of your teeth
Stranger: yeah
Stranger: Anyway when im driving a bus I wont have time for dating
You: oh yeah?
Stranger: yah
Stranger: there is so much available OT to do so when will I have time to try (and fail) to get a girl
You: when you are walking your dog in the park
You: like a responsible adult
Stranger: I dont care for pets
You: ok, well, i've spent a lot of time here trying to problem solve your stupid shit, do you have any questions about feminism?
Stranger: why is feminism even needed?
You: to fight for the rights of the marginalized and prevent social regression
Stranger: sounds BS
You: meh
You: its pretty awesome honestly
Stranger: not its not
Stranger: women are not oppressed, they are just greedy and demanding
You: lol, but imagine their was a mgtow/incel support group for woman
Stranger: nope
You: except not shitty
Stranger: sure
Stranger: dating is shit
You: https://www.mmiwg-ffada.ca/
Stranger: what is that?
You: website for missing and murdered indigenous women and girls
Stranger: dont care
You: ok, so you don't care about the parts of society where women are oppressed
Stranger: nope
You: no wonder you didn'
You: t notice
Stranger: ever seen a homeless man?
You: yeah dude
Stranger: "oppressed" men
You: capitalism man and conservative pollitics man
Stranger: ok?
You: socialist feminism is about getting the needs of homeless men met
Stranger: nope
Stranger: socialism is bullshit
You: lol
You: but a workers union for bus drivers?
Stranger: yes
You: bs or no?
Stranger: nope
You: welcome to the labour movement
Stranger: socialism is bullshit.
You: its fuckin socialism
Stranger: "free" "free "free"
You: you dork
Stranger: "Socialism cause I dont want to work, I want it free, paid for by those who do work"
You: you don't actually know shit about it
Stranger: sure
Stranger: lets raise taxes for the rich so you dont have to pay for shit
You: mmmm, well that doesn't sound too bad
You: are you rich?
Stranger: nope
Stranger: you know why those people are rich?
You: exploiting the working class
Stranger: nope, working hard
You: no dude, they extract value from the work and pay them as little as possible
Stranger: well, get a new job, maybe a union job, they pay more
Stranger: stop being lazy
You: lol, dude, if you don't want your boss to exploit you and take 95% of the value created by you working your ass off, guess what helps with that?
You: fucking forming a union
You: fucking socialism
Stranger: yeah, but not socialist bullshit
Stranger: "boo hoo, I have to work hard boo hoo"
You: UNIONS ARE SOCIALIST
Stranger: nope
You: lol, ok
You: tell that to the guys when you are applying for your union job
Stranger: I will enjoy my union job
You: and you'll be an ignorant hipocrit
Stranger: I'll be richer than you simply by working.
You: lol,
You: jesus
Stranger: so stop being a crybaby and get a job
You: i have a job, and i'm in a union
You: but i know what i'm talking about
You: i'm not regurgitating capitalist bullshit
Stranger: no you dont, you seem to think those who work harder than you should pay for your stuff
You: lol dude
Stranger: what
You: i don't know where to start
You: you are just really thick
Stranger: nope, just smarter than you
You: ok, so remember how you had your mom pay for your dental care
Stranger: yeah
You: remember how your teeth are growing out of your skull
Stranger: yeah...
Stranger: get on with it idiot
You: and how if you had head trauma you could get free health care at a hospital
Stranger: GET ON WITH YOUR POINT IDIOT
You: but if you have a tooth problem you have you pay hundreds of dollars
Stranger: whats your fucking point moron
You: dentistry could be socialized like the rest of healthcare
You: and it would be better for society
Stranger: "boo hoo, I dont wanna pay when I have too, boo hoo
Stranger: "
Stranger: "make it free cause I dont wanna pay, wwwaaaaa"
You: and it wouldnt cost people much and it would imrpove the quality of life of lots of people
Stranger: sure
You: that's the kind of free shit socialists want
You: not Ipods
Stranger: sure
You: although, with the savings... you could buy an ipod
You: but then apple would also get taxed properly
Stranger: they want free college, higher taxes for those who work so social assistance rates can be raised for those who cant be bothered to work
You: and pay for dentistry....
Stranger: aww, did you have to pay a bill like an adult?
You: dude, you already said you have never paid a dentist bill in your life
Stranger: but did you
You: yeah I'm 32
Stranger: yeah but you act like a child
You: dude you don't even understand taxes
Stranger: i do
You: yeah, you are worried that your taxes which you pay for will be used for something usefull for society
Stranger: but I' be paying MORE taxes, I dont want that
You: and you are worried that people who make millions of dollars more than you are going to have to pay more
You: progressive taxation doesn't work like that
Stranger: well, they earned it why should they have to pay more?
You: because they have extracted that value from the world, and that's what taxes are, for taking care of the world
Stranger: sure
You: yeah
Stranger: im not intrested in your bs
You: lol
You: i mean, you're a piece of work buddy
Stranger: thanks
You: i mean, you've got a lot of growing up to do
Stranger: I could care less what a socialist loser thinks
Stranger: I worked for it, its fucking mine
You: lol
You: jesus, ok
You: lets start over
Stranger: you want it? work harder
You: "I worked for it, it's fucking mine"
Stranger: yeah
You: yeah
You: agreed
Stranger: so you want something? work harder and earn it, dont expect someone else to pay for it
You: you get hired for a job flipping burgers
Stranger: no thanks, I can do better than that
You: you work 9 hour shifts, and cook 300 burgers an hour
Stranger: is that your job?
You: you get paid, 12 dollars
You: no i'm an electrician
Stranger: then why do those shit jobs matter?
You: but this person gets paid 12 dollars for making 300 burgers sold for an average of $4 each
Stranger: your point is?
You: they process the food that made the company $1200
Stranger: ok and?
You: and got paid 1%
Stranger: your point is?
You: the $1200, I WORKED FOR IT, I PRODUCED IT, ITS FUCKING MINE
Stranger: nope
Stranger: you get paid $12 per hour worked, not per item cooked
You: yeah dude its the same shit, you are worried about the people who took 99% of the wealth from a shit job employee having to pay more taxes and give poor people dental care
Stranger: if they want to get paid more go get a higher skilled job than flipping burgers and salting fries
You: it can be a fucking hard job
You: like, seriously watch a fast food employee next time you are in one
You: they are always having to do shit
Stranger: I did, she was cute and bent over
You: yeah, you should have paid her for that
Stranger: nope
You: you stole a look
Stranger: paid her to pick up trash from the floor? I believe the company pays her for that
You: again, the wealthy will pay their employees as little as they legally can, and keep as much money as they can and pay as little taxes as they can
Stranger: oh
Stranger: well
Stranger: get a higher paying job?
You: and you think that these people are working harder
Stranger: there is no skill in burger flipping
You: when they are just working hard enough to exploit resources of other people and hoard wealth
Stranger: sure
You: so yeah, burger flipping is a job that is grueling and bullshit and annoying
Stranger: well, get a new one
You: but the metaphor is applicable to most jobs
Stranger: sure
You: you figure out how much the company is making off of you, and you realize it is a lot more than they are paying you and they should be respecting you a lot more for doing your job well
You: that's why unions are fucking awesome
You: because they can protect you from exploitation, get you better wages and services
You: and fight for you if you are wronged
Stranger: yeah, so those burger flippers can go get a new union job
You: the burger flippers can also start a union, but mcdonalds is pretty keen on union busting
Stranger: I've had to repeat my order to some of the morons working there and sometimes they still cant get it right, so why should they be paid more?
You: again, you don't have to focus on burgers,
You: like, shit man
Stranger: oh well
You: anyway, your bus job sounds cool and i hope it treats you well and you learn from your coworkers what the union is doing for you
Stranger: yeah
Stranger: because I have the high skill required to drive a bus, I will be paid more than a no skilled worker in a store or Mcdicks
You: i mean... some would try to say that driving a bus doesn't take much skill at all
Stranger: explain to me how to do a right turn while driving a bus,
You: like it's basically sitting on a couch
Stranger: sure.
You: i mean, what goes on a double mcRib, no L, ex P,
Stranger: dont know, dont care
You: yeah, dude people undervalue the labour of workers
Stranger: sure
Stranger: "duuurr I put cheese on a burger"
You: "I made 600 burgers today, and some shithead started screaming at me for getting onions when he asked for no ketchup"
Stranger: well, do your job right
You: lol, show some compassion and empathy in every aspect of your life
Stranger: nah
You: yeah, dude
Stranger: if they cant figure out what "no ketchup" is they are not too bright
You: i think you missed the part where the guy didn't ask for no onions
You: he only asked for no ketchup
Stranger: oh well I dont care
Stranger: get a better job
Stranger: I've seen quite a few downright useless fast food workers, so tell me why they are worth more than $12 an hour?
You: your anecdotal evidence is as flawed in observations of fast food employees as it is with women
Stranger: sure
You: you have no empathy and only think about yourself
You: you are short sighted, ignorant and arrogant
Stranger: I had to repeat my order of "2 double cheese burgers and 1 regular sized M&M Mcflurry " 3 times
Stranger: only to get slow service and an oreo Mcflurry
You: yeah dude, i had to repeat unions are socialism like 5 times and you still don't understand
Stranger: but unions are not socialism you fuckward
Stranger: if you want to get paid more EARN IT
You: fuckin' you want me to crack open wikipedia
Stranger: dont care
Stranger: I dont care what some socialist moron thinks
Stranger: burger flippers are skilless, so they get low paid
You: ok, but you understand the central theme though right?
Stranger: high skill= high pay
low skill = low pay
You: a burger flipper does a variety of tasks for 8 hours a day and gets paid 1% of the value they produce, or less
Stranger: burger flipper has no usefull skills
You: YOU EAT THE FOOD DIPSHIT
Stranger: and?
You: THEY MADE THE FOOD FOR YOU!
Stranger: making food isnt hard
You: YOU DIDN"T MAKE THE FOOD AND YOU GOT FOOD
Stranger: they are paid to make the food
Stranger: I bought the food
You: ok, so you paid a company 99% for them to exploit a worker tyo make you a burger
Stranger: yeah, so what
Stranger: why do you even care? its not your job
You: we move up, and look at the day shift managers, the night shift managers, they get paid quite a bit more than the employees but aren't working much harder
Stranger: managers are overpaid slackers
You: they might actually be working less hard
You: yeah, and above them, managers of the local franchises, and up ward and upward to a ceo who is perhaps having a meeting once a day? and getting paid how much more than their lowest employee
Stranger: oh well\
Stranger: I dont care about the useless burger flipper
You: again, its not burgers, its everthing
You: its you right now
You: you don't even have this kushy bus job
You: with union support
You: you are probably unemployed
Stranger: you realize their job is pretty much
cooking food
taking out trash
sweeping the floor,
stuff you do at home, its simple shit
Stranger: I have a union job
You: what is your job?
Stranger: loading trucks
You: and that takes how much skill?
Stranger: a fair amount
You: in what way?
Stranger: gotta load 4 trucks, sort it according to the load sort, keep up with the pace of freight coming to you
You: but anyone with muscles could do it?
Stranger: if your loading a company truck keep count of the number of stops, if its owner op dont count it
Stranger: muscles and a brain
You: ok
Stranger: harder work than burger flippers
You: i mean, I was gonna scrutinize it further to make the point that your job seems pretty simple but you have lots of insider knowledge about the challenges of the job to say otherwise
Stranger: exactly
You: it could be argued that it is an unskilled labour possition though
Stranger: harder job thus for higher pay
You: maybe, or a labour rights movement that had your back
Stranger: no the unskilled is unloading trailers, all it takes it watch your head, watch out for the guy your with and put the labels facing up onto the conveyor
Stranger: still not socialism you idiot
You: i mean, i don't need to argue that rain is wet
You: you can deny it if you want
Stranger: nah
You: you can even call me an idiot for saying the rain is wet
Stranger: your dumb enough to think the morons at fast food deserve higher pay so I cant take you seriously
You: but it only reflects on your arrogance
Stranger: sure
Stranger: "2 double cheese burgers and an M&M Mcflurry"
I had to repeat it 3 times and they still couldnt get the order right.
but you think they should be paid more?
You: i guess should have picked a better metaphor
You: you are really hung up on that eh?
Stranger: its an example to prove you wrong
Stranger: picking up an empty cup from the floor is so hard, oh poor girl
You: it proves nothing really
You: except that you hate poor people
Stranger: it proves they are not worth more than min wage
You: and that they deserve worse treatment than wealthy people
Stranger: no, they just need to work harder to get higher pay
Stranger: also whens the last time you were in any fast food place?
You: and that caring about the needs of the marginalized and downtrodden is outside of your wheelhouse, and that you should eat shit and die alone
You: simple as that
You: fuck off
You: and die
Stranger: lol guess what
You: mgtow to hell
Stranger: I used to be homeless
You: yeah, sounds made up
Stranger: well its not
Stranger: you see, I did what was needed to get off the street, finish school and get a job
You: and you have internalized all sorts of capitalist bullshit along the way
Stranger: so what
Stranger: hard work is all you need
Stranger: get a skill
You: lol
Stranger: why are bus drivers paid so much?
high skilled job
gotta deal with shitty people sometimes
You: you're still pretty thick
Stranger: also, since you dodged my question, most fast food workers are high schoolers anyway, so who cares if they make min wage, most of that money is just blown when they hang out with friends anyway
You: ok, but that's not actually true
You: most fast food employees are between 28 an 40
Stranger: odd. I was in Mcdonalds today, the oldest guy there looked 20
Stranger: hmm, then how come I've seen people from my old highschool working there? they were a grade or two below me as well...
You: cause of the neighborhood you live in doesn't represent the majority of fastfood service jobs?
Stranger: I've been to quite a few and its all highschool looking kids workin there
You: and so you know a lot of workers who are 18-20 but that doesn't actually mean that's the average
You: https://groundswell.org/fast-food-misconceptions/
Stranger: want higher pay? get hire skill
You: 40 percent of the workforce in the fast food industry is 25 or older, and the average fast-food worker is 29 years old.
Stranger: get a skill
Stranger: https://www.monster.com/career-advice/article/best-paid-job-skills
You: but also, tax the rich and give services to poor people
Stranger: so tax those who work hard and have skills to pay for things for people who are lazy and have no skill.
Stranger: https://www.marketwatch.com/story/these-10-skills-you-need-to-earn-higher-wages-may-surprise-you-2017-04-18
You: alright lazy brain, i gotta go to bed
You: got work in the morning
You: gotta put these skills to work
Stranger: get a skill to get higher pay
Stranger: dont want to flip burgers? get a skill
You: dude I'm an electrician
Stranger: exactly, so your paid more than a burger flipper cause your usefull
You: not everyone can do this work, we need a diversity of workers doing all sorts of shit
Stranger: there are plenty of skilled jobs
You: you're dumb as bricks but you are getting paid decent with your loading job
Stranger: yeah, because its skill
Stranger: and im not dumb as bricks.
You: i want a society that takes care of you even though personally I hope boxes crush your legs and a woman shits in your mouth
Stranger: lol
Stranger: see, your so bitter
Stranger: you cant accept that not everyone agrees with you and you freak out
You: yeah, its just cause you are 22, a bitter misogynist and unable to process new information
Stranger: I have processed it
Stranger: and its bullshit
Stranger: you dont get high pay for low skill
You: eh... your bs assessment skills are weeeeeek
Stranger: everyone knows that to get high pay you gotta work hard
Stranger: take from those who work to give to those who dont, your fucked in the head
You: aight duder
You: eat shitbricks
You have disconnected.
0 notes
Text
Brain farts....
So to turn to a cathartic exercise, I write to try and process my brain.
Let me explain myself.
My story is a long one, too long to go into detail for now but to summarise…. my life started to change from a chaotic dysfunctional everlasting death wish to something that I feared and had no experience of….functionality
Or what appeared to be functional as I observed the rest of the ‘normal’ human race in the 1st world do.
Straight out of rehab, I almost immediately jumped into a relationship… initially had no intention of it having any longevity, after all I was so damaged-who would want me or more importantly put up with me.
But he did and 16 years of the relationship lasted somehow, producing 2 beautiful children.
But it wasn't enough for me. I didn't love him. I loved who he was and I think that is different, he was my constant, he was my secure base if I'm looking from a psychological theory aspect but I didn't love him which bred contempt.
I think, or at least I'm currently experiencing, I am a sexual creature who loves the feel of another human being.
I didn't in this relationship, it was an act to just get pure primal needs met and in the 16 years we were together, I probably actually slept in the same bed for 1 1/2 years of the relationship.
He didn't do oral sex so nor did i. I’d accepted that as normal. Sex never got more exciting than missionary, don't get me wrong, there were periodic glimpses of passion but few and far between. Since leaving the relationship and having had some good sex since I'm still stunned I accepted that for such a long time.
After 5 years of the relationship, I had grown as a person, starting to discover some resemblance of self worth, not much, but it was there and I felt guilt for this relationship, knowing I was always looking elsewhere but not actually acting on it.
I attempted to end it and was greeted with a sobbing, begging person, promising to try harder and please not to leave him……Oh shit…. I was NOT expecting that. I felt so bad, I agreed to try and carry on.
I think from that moment onwards that had sealed fate for this relationship. He then was waiting for the inevitable and I was so wracked with guilt from seeing a broken man cry…. I carried on slightly resentful for another 11 years.
We both grew separately in this time in other areas of our lives and I think that was what we were good at as a couple, we encouraged each other to better ourselves, we both individually slowly nurtured a growing self worth, just not enough to be able to let go of each other. Two children knowing something wasn't right but unable to be honest about what that was.
The eventual end could have been dealt with better by myself as I chose one of his most vulnerable times of his life. 3 days after his father died.
This not only demonstrates my selfish nature but also my inability to hold onto things until I burst and have to act.
I was expecting a repeat of what had happened when I ended it before. But nothing, no resistance, no begging and no tears.
In fact the only tears were mine of guilt.
He very quickly got into another relationship and is still in it. He cannot be honest with me about how serious it is but for a rebound, it’s been at least a year and a half. 
This stings me repeatedly. He wanted to walk leaving everything, take nothing of the 16 years we had built together. I could not understand. Still struggle with that but I'm guessing it's a preservation for him.
We still communicate-ish. On a very basic level in terms of the children.
I get angry when he talks about his new relationship and he throws money at me to try and keep me ? Happy ? Quiet.
So now I'm free…. What to do with that? Actually my solid base is now gone and that scares me, I could literally do anything. Although I now know that I have the ability to be a functional human being in this world, as I have been proving this to myself over and over again, it has taken my emotions right back to that dysfunctional being who had no filters. The primal me.
So In my best decision making ability - NOT, I hit the dating sites with vengeance.
Sex is disposable, can be the most primal thing on earth and it is so good when you find someone who knows what they are doing.
Before I start, i have written exclusively about men here, but i am Bi, I just haven't entered back into that world yet. It scares me a little, i may decide that actually it’s a woman that I want need after all….However I do like cock, too much to let it go.
I like a man to take the lead but due to my dubious past, I have also had a lot of experience and am open to a lot of things to hit my pleasure zones.
The thing I struggle with is the emotions. Is it even possible to separate the natural chemicals produced by seeing the same person repeatedly?
I have tested the waters with different men and if they are good, i repeat, if they are not i don’t…
My situation so far on the ones that have left some form of impact on me
I accidentally bumped into a guy, that initially had no interest in really. Then I fucked him. Holy shit!! He hit every physical button he could.  Maybe it wasn't even that good but I have been starved of my bodily feeling that way I clung on like a limpet.
Mentally and emotionally not really there initially and if I'm honest, not really physically attracted to him other than what he did in bed.
So he has just ended this ‘thing’ we have been doing for the past month-essentially 3 weeks of fucking pretty much every other day.
He tells me he wants a relationship now and the fuck buddy thing is not for him and that our wants are different.
I don't want to jump into another relationship so soon. I want to explore this awakening of my sexuality before the menopause kicks in and I have no interest any more.
But I do want emotional human contact too that is more than a friendship level… Maybe I want my cake and eat it? I can be very selfish sometimes.
I feel hurt from this rejection and my emotional maturity isn't at the place where I can be rational about it, My head tells me that he has spotted I am fundamentally damaged and that he’s not going to go there.
Of course i have made it all about me…again selfish
I’m struggling to let go of this rejection.
He’s a sweet bloke and I actually admire that he can show that level of emotional awareness to know when to back out until he finds what he wants. I hope he does… the child in me tell me he wont find such great sex again…. But thats my bolshy streak! Its how you know to get the best out of a situation i guess……
So meanwhile in a different reality but parallel to the one I've been talking about…. I am still on the dating sites…. Yes, fuck boy is right really, I don't particularly want exclusivity unless the world collide and makes me see that this is the ‘one’ whatever fantasy realm that exists in….
I have been speaking to someone for quite a while now,  a lot longer that fuck boy has been around and I love talking to him. I call him the Brain. I haven't met him and I'm almost afraid to as I don't want to lose what we have got in his company of chat.
We speak most days, some days all day long.
He hits my emotional intelligence level, I think anyway, I can cum when just thinking about conversations we have had. Trouble is if I meet him, I'm so afraid the chemistry wont be there. This is what you don't get chatting.
There is intellectual chemistry no doubt. But it boils down to physical again.
I don’t even know what he truly looks like either. He won't show me another picture. I don't entirely trust that he is single either.
Im afraid of losing him or the persona that he has created for me.
There is another boy, and I use that word loosely due to the fact he is 29, 14 years younger than me who tells me he wants to fuck me… he’s new. I think I might try him. No long term intention….
And then there is Chris. Chris was one of the first I started with. Again I haven't met him, I was going to but he bottled it.
He’s sweet but brings out the punisher in me. I kind of like stringing him along. I’m a bitch right? I may still fuck him but I like the fact he still try to get me to meet him. I told him it was 2 strikes and then out and he bottled both times.
He has narcolepsy, the nurse in me wants to know if he will crash while I'm fucking him…. Yes, I’m a perv!!
There are others that I'm chatting to but no-one who has made any sort of impact.
What do I get from it all?
I guess there are multiple levels of stuff.
Firstly validation that I cannot obtain for myself. 
The physical aspect forfils my physical and sexual desires. Thats chemical.
There is also an element of punishment in there too. A shame shock if you like. It challenges all my catholic guilt that I seem to lug around like a sack of rubble.
If I enter something and get rejected it validates my core belief that I am mad, bad and unlovable. There is some sort of sick investment in there that keeps me mentally unwell. Maybe I like that as it defines me to myself.
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Free Writing
I feel sick. On friday i came home dizzy feeling like I was dead walking and passed out sleeping for most of the night into the day. I woke up sunday feeling a lot better but as i tried to eat my body was not having it. Even now I can’t stomach too much but apples and even then that is pushing it. i feel like at any second i will puke but It’s a faint sensation. I had two dreams that had me startled and put a slight cloud on my day until i forced the thoughts away. The first was strange and happened about 2 days ago. i was in an apartment listening to a friend of mine talk about his life. I was trying my best to fight trying to have sex with him and failing. even going so far as to entering the bathroom with him. ugh. i was pretty upset at myself in my dream cause I watched myself do it but in my head I was like ‘why are you doing this. don’t do it’. so anyway I have a pair of headphones on connected to like a walkkie talkie and I hear my ex’s voice on the other end. he’s talking about old money business and i click the talk end and ask him to repeat it. He is shocked and he says ‘your voice is too much right now’ and I apologize and ask him to repeat it. he starts to cry and i can hear the emotion and I look up feeling his pain. It was strange because I didn’t really care too much about the situation. I feel like I already moved on from him a long time ago and I didn’t regret my decision at all but haring the pain and emotion in his voice was too much. the dream ends and its a shallow dream so i know im near to akinng up. I carried that with me for the majority of the morning and it bothered me because i feel like i am being punnihsed for how the relationship went. I dragged it on for longer then it needed to be. wayyy longer and I still look back now and regret it but I’m learning to move past it and not dwell too much on it. I eventually was brave enough to face being alone and potentially being unloved so there is that. The other dream happened today. jesus had a weir dtanget and left a silly conversation we were having. i think he really just wanted to step away from me and i was actually pretty okay with it. I feel when we talk too much it puts a strain on our friendship. i wanna-say relationship but...I don’t like that. Inn my head im much more happy seeing it as a friendship because that means its safe. i almost don’t give myself any reason to be jealous  about others and i can give him my love in friendship and that is much more better for me. but some things he said got to me. He was talking about how dull and boring my life would be without him and at first i just joked about it but now I’m startting to see his point. Would i have been exposed to music without him? not as intense bth.My obsession with music and desire to persue it in some shape or form was inspiredby him and who he pointed out to me. I covet his songs so much. They are like staples for me and i dunno im actually listening to one of his songs now (let ‘em know by bryson tiller). So now that he has done his typical thing pretending to be upset and leaving “for couple of days” I have time to think. Its also venus retrograde whihc is like time to revisit and reassess how I see love, how i want to be loved and how I love others. also how my relationships look like and if there is a need for change. This is a simplistic view but its my understanding of it. So I know his venus is in Leo. which lmao is very fitting. hmm sometimes i wonder if I need to slow down with my thoughts of him. I am fascinated by him, pused by him, fired up by him, irritated, annoyed, and some feelings that i cant or wont name. So where does that leave me? Sometimes in my head i’ll call him allan and that makes me pause. Am i waiting for a saviour again? if i am i need to step back and realize that that only ends in pain and dissapointed hope. My last relationship i leanre da lot but it was under duress. it was painful and like forced me out of my caccoon under his hand and i felt so constrained as i tried to heal. it was too much for me and he never did understand me. Now that i’m just feeling jesus out I now see i see him as a saviour and i’m torn bewteen seeing him as one and being okay with it. is it so bad to have friends as liferafts? but at the smame time i dont think he should be treated like one :/ idk its weird though things have been feeling so surreal to me. watching my hands type and literally giving form to my words is unsettling to me. I feel like something is happening to me and i’m scared that its something bad. i don’t rmember being so sick before. in 3 years i only ever experieneced slight sniffles and here i am full blown sick and shit. i’m worried for myself and my body.I ask for michael’s healing and proetction. I am in a strange place and I wonder what will become of all of this. I feel so out of place. maybe its the books i have been reading too. When i read i somtimes carry bits of it into my life. i wake up in this world slightly disjointed and off. I finished reading parable of the talents and that left me shook. i have oto write a book review for that but ive been avoiding it for some reason? anyway I’m a lil way halfway trough lilith’s brood and I find the book fascinating and also scary in a way. i’m not scraed perse about the alients. or maybe i am idk. I’m more scared of the future where women and children will be vulnerable. why is it that males resourt to being bullies again once oscieties are gone? why sare they the most dnagerous? i mean even now they still are and its wrapped up in laws, decorms etc but in a dystopian futuere? terrifying. I couldnt be like Olomina and dress like a man because I am too fullfigured and womenly to pass. i am worried for myself. I just want to be free....i dunno what is going on with me? I ffeel like im drifting in and out of reality and things feel dreamy. I had a thought about my empathy and pisces power and like...maybe all my empathy is for books? thats when i feel so misty and out of it after reading ike my mind really led me away. im happy im reading again at least. it unsettles me that i am becoming  a women. I am entranced with myself seeing the curves, my skin and body seeing how beautiful it is but also seeing how dangerous it is to me and my life. How many times will people punish me for how i look? men mostly. and i dont mind suing what power i apparently have over them but its like i know it will be used aaginst me soon. i never feel wrong for knowing that my body is beautiful. I know it is and i know i am beautiful and a creature many may want to touch and have. I am growing into it and i feel like a flower that is maturing before peoples eyes and im afraid. i know fear is bad so let me say mor elike it unsetles me. but with chnage comes growth and i feel like because of my freeizing myself as i unthaw and turn into who i was supposed to be i am going to blossom very quick. its also weird too because as I say i want this this and this in my body over time i gain that. i was so e skinny and i wished to be thicker and now here i am getting thicker and i know if i atemore id be even thikcer and yet my stomach has not changedd and actually has remained smaller then it as before? i am also finally looking pretty. i felt like such an ugly child and now i wonder if its not that im being graced with it now but that i am seeing it in myself. i know i have eyes that can trap people. I actually look away to make them feel comfortable because if i stare too long at eople they either get caught up in my face (men especially) or they paue for a second.. idk. i feel like im changing t into something that ahs power that i am not comfortble handling;. or am i just being dramatic? the voice in my head is soft and quiet and that is the true me. I have to protect her because thhis world wants to hurt her and she is too good for it. that sounds weird.. But i know i have to keep this shell around me because peope see weakness and want to go for it/. when i gaine dback my sag and leo self i have used it like a shield against people and emotions. only a few know about my soter side/. jesus nampende and allan do. allan has used it and used it agains me to quiet myself, jesus looks down on it and i think nampende is the only one who sees it and sympathzes with it. alone i am soft and always ondering. when im with peoplei am dynamic lughing being wild and having fun. i know that that needs to be my face to protect me. these days i feel like i need to make a descion.  I dont know when and what i need to decide on but i know something will happen soon in my life. something big. idk.maybe its the new moon in virgo? or maybe its just me. im usually okay with momnets of confusion but coupled with this sickness and weird feeling im worried. i had my period so im worired im pregnant but....idk.anywasy on a more shallower side im getting my hair done and im trying to get a new phone. i know its mostyly because i wanna just fuck show people i actually am cute asf? for some reason i cna never capture how beauiful i am in pictures. maybe its the dymanicness of my face. idk i mosty want jesus to se it i think he thinks im ugy af and im like not??? if he saw me in person i dont think he would be saying and talking to me the ay he does. but i cant help things and tb its better that way. if i eve rsee him it will be a good suprise for me when i smirk at him like boyyyy you don fucked up;. anywyas im being etty and yes my exercises ha and will be fueled with this drema in mind veen tho i know it may not actually happen nor go the way i want ti to go. ughh sometimes i forget that im 23 and dont need to have it ll figured out. like thast not un expuse but i always be putting so much pressure on myself to know so much and catch up because i froze so much of myself. i know my body ma=eant well with how it chose to protect me but sis, i suffer lol.I am trying my best to just do my best. I feel tested and tested constantly but i guess with trying to be a better person and working on yourself. oh wait. PLUTO. i remmeber asking pluto a month ago to reveal all my bad shit a lotttt over the course of a month and sicne its a slow moving planet its prob now just hitting me. yikes. well if i cna make it through this then i really will be rdy for anything. so much pressure and stimulation i know i can survive but damn i need a break and shit.well i have tomorrow off so im probgonna chill and dhit. i have a meeting with some witches and other femmes in about an hour so lmao idk man im just trying my best. I hoope the universe sees that im trying because awd jesus i am. I love myself through this no matter what. the feeling that im gonna die is creeping up again its so strange i hvent felt this oh...its probably just anxiety over this sickess. ugdwheteriutuieyte45465hthrethuwt im gonna stop lol this has been too long already (peep the change in tone thast my sag self shining through)
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jean-gray-blog · 7 years
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How Can I Unlove You?
First love never dies they say,  at first I didnt believe it. But I think the universe is telling me to believe otherwise.
  January 19,2015, one of the most memorable dates for me.  Why?  Its because my first love came back to me after almost 8 years. We were together 7 years ago, during 1st year highschool to be exact.  You were my first love. 1 week after you left me hanging without saying why. I got myself a boyfriend after that,  one after another,  hoping to forget you.  I was too mad without realizing that there are few who loved me but I chose to break them.  I became a playgirl. Years passed and I thought I was able to move on.  I thought I was happy breaking the hearts of the men that passed by me.  But one summer before 4th year highschool,  I saw your facebook profile.  My heart skipped.  I was so mad cause I realized that Im still the same girl.  The same girl whose so madly inlove with you. I cant move on. I just cant.  I  transferred again.  I came back to the place where all the pain started.  I only wished to see you from afar,  but the universe must really hate me, you became my classmate again.  I dont know what to do.  Im not prepared for that kind of situation. Im panicking. And then I saw your smile again.  All the pain came back, felt like yesterday. Pain and anger is what i can feel that moment.  I built a wall. I made everyone mad at me, so I wont tell them what I truly feel.  2 of your friends became my boyfriend. I thought I’d get your attention. But again,  I was wrong. You didnt care, you never care. It hurts like hell. I thought that it was better if i’ll just die. Tell me,  how can I unlove you?  I though the feeling is gone. But no,  i just buried it that why it was never gone.  You had yourself a girlfriend later on.  She was really nice.  She’s smart and she has a lot of friends. Im nothing compare to her. By that time I know that I lost. I still love you, Im loving you secretly. Only SHE and I knows.  I told her not to hurt you.  I told her that I will get you back no matter what if she will. I wanted to be mad at you,  maybe by doing so I will be able to move on.  But I just cant.  Im sorry.  I moved away after graduation, hoping again to forget you. I never visited your profile while I was away. I was better. I came back after 2 years. I thought I was ok. But just like before, I never was. 1 day,  you message me. Asking for help to find a job since Im already working. I cursed myself because I couldnt say no to you. I met you again, personally.  Youre still handsome. Still the same face that Ive been loving ever since Im 12 years old.  I pretented that Im not affected. I asked you out, saying that I will give you some tips before the interview. I was so happy because you came. For me its already a date, our first date.  Months passed and we never met again.  But January 18, 2015, my youngest brother celebrated his birthday.  I invited a couple of our classmate. I thought thats the opportunity to meet you again. And you came.  You have no idea how happy I am.  I managed to hide my feelings, atleast thats what I know. January 19, around 1 or 2am I think, I asked you to accompany me to drink.  I told you about my recent EX, you told me yours. I managed to ask you the reason why you left me before and you answered it honestly.  Well half actually. You told me that you wanted to focus with your studies but you didnt say that youre inlove with someone else that time.  But even though you didnt tell me,  I know. I came home at around 4am and I recieve a message from you, asking for another chance, asking if we can start over again and try to make something work together. Being the crazy,  head over heel girl I said yes without thinking it twice.  I thought that my heart will come out of my chest that time.  I wasnt able to sleep well for weeks because of too much joy.  Again, I let my guard down. I didnt care since I was so happy.  Ever since we got back together,  were only communicationg through SMS and facebook messenger. I tried to understand you since youre still studying. February 14,valentines day. I pity myself cause you dont have any plans on taking me out or anything.  I forced you though. That how badly I wanted to see you,  wanted to be with you.  This is the first time that we met since we got back. We watched FIFTY SHADES OF GREY and had dinner in a japanese restau and played in Time Zone. It was really fun for me. I hope that it was fo you too. We took a cab since its already dawn. You accidentally gave your 500.00 thinking that it was a 20 pesos bill.  It was a very special day.  Do you remember before we separate ways? I wanted to alteast hug you before heading home, but i was too shy. Days passed and everything went back to normal.  Us communicating through sms and messenger. You dont know how painful it is waiting for hours, days for your reply. February 17, I was hospitalized. I undergone a major surgery. You said that you were busy with your thesis and I said ok. There’s this guy that stayed with me the next morning. Hes my colleague.  He stayed until my mom arrived. He should have been you but shit happens. February 19, I was hoping that you’d visit me since its our first month anniversary. And again you didnt show. I tried my very best to understand you. I was discharged the next day. Days, weeks passed but you never visit me at home. I was so depressed but thank God he sent someone to be my crying shoulder. First day of march,  I never recieved a single message from you for more that a week. Thats the time when i made one of the hardest decision. I decided to let you go. I cried every single night. My friends at work, including HIM tried to comfort me. Saying that I deserve someone better. And I agreed. I blocked you from facebook,  thats my first step to forget you. I deleted your number but im still reading our messages. I just cant delete them yet. 3rd day of March, i received a message saying “BABE? ”. I knew it was you but i cant let my guard down,  not anymore. I pretended not to know you.  I even said that theres a lot that Ive been calling babe so I dont know who you are.  You didnt reply after that.  And thats the end of everything I guess? Or thats what I thought atleast. Months passed, my colleagues kept me preoccupied specially HIM. So preoccupied that i fell for him. I was happy. We were happy. Everything is falling into place I think. I still think of you from time to time but not that much. He loved me so much to the point that I felt contented. I created a new facebook account, didnt bother to block you.I thought that you wont have the courage to get in touch with me because of what you did. But then again I was wrong. December 2016, I recieved a message via messenger. “HEY” thats what you said. I was suprised. I replied. You apologized and wanted to make it up to me.  I declined ofcourse. I was so mad that I didnt even think twice everything that I said.  After that incident,  I keep on dreaming and thinking about you again. My conscience is already eating me.  I feel like Im betraying HIM.  No,  Im already betraying HIM. So I made this decision,  I chatted you, asked you why. I thought that maybe if I do it,  maybe if I’ll have the “Closure” I’ll be fine. But here I am. Thinking about you,  all day and all night. I think Im going nuts. Even if I go nuts,  I think its too late. Im getting married. I cant leave HIM for you. He picked me up,  piece by piece. Maybe Im destined to love you forever but not to be with you. Maybe after some years I’ll be able to move on from you completely. We dont know whats gonna happen. But for now,  if ever you read this,  I just want you to know that I did love you so much. And I hope youre happy. Goodbye.
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