The Isolated Blurt Thread VII: 7th Heaven

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my knees hurt and i smell very bad, but i'm still happy that i finally fixed my bicycle and then rode the fucker. now i just have to pray that my legs haven't turned to rubber because i totally feel a piss coming on and i've been sitting for awhile.
 
We crossed swords a time or two so I can't say we were friends but it's tragic news for sure and I feel strangely very sad about it.

A big part of this joint for sure.

:rose:
 
We crossed swords a time or two so I can't say we were friends but it's tragic news for sure and I feel strangely very sad about it.

A big part of this joint for sure.

:rose:

he was no angel, but he had the mind of a scientist, heart of a poet, and i got to read some of his writings. they were beautiful and his head was filled with stars.
 
It's hard to be cheerful today.

He was the crazy uncle that drove me batty. This silly place is our family and losing one of our own is not easy to take.
 
Pater noster, qui es in caelis:
sanctificetur Nomen Tuum;
adveniat Regnum Tuum;
fiat voluntas Tua,
sicut in caelo, et in terra.
Panem nostrum cotidianum da nobis hodie;
et dimitte nobis debita nostra,
sicut et nos dimittimus debitoribus nostris;
et ne nos inducas in tentationem;
sed libera nos a Malo
 
At that hour when all things have repose,
O lonely watcher of the skies,
Do you hear the night wind and the sighs
Of harps playing unto Love to unclose
The pale gates of sunrise?

When all things repose, do you alone
Awake to hear the sweet harps play
To Love before him on his way,
And the night wind answering in antiphon
Till night is overgone?

Play on, invisible harps, unto Love,
Whose way in heaven is aglow
At that hour when soft lights come and go,
Soft sweet music in the air above
And in the earth below.

James Joyce, Irish author and poet (1882 - 1941)
 
Wading through old emails, wishing there was more revelation, less pigtail pulling. I wonder why we spent so much time talking about his shitty old Razr V3 flip phone?
 
From one of our last exchanges more than a year ago,
Like most sand-castles built on the shore of Lit, the tide comes in, and when it goes out again, there's nothing left but a lump.
 
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