Dispensary yum cha flounders.

Haha, yeah, Greek.

Αυτό δεν είναι σωστό.


I like myself a good font change. 


I'm going to write a story. RIGHT COW.


"Hmmm, what's the answer to this equation?! I wish I knew!"

"Why, son, it's 20^3 + 45^7 = r23!"

"Thanks, Right Cow! You're always right!"



The trials and tribulations of Harry:

For there was a great cold in the house.
Unbeknown to Harry, of course.
Call of nature stirred him so. The awakening of truth and existence awaited.
Kindly strangers and misshapen women occupied Harry's mind as he approached the lavatory. 
Incidentally the clock rang out a haunting tune, to signify the time was four am, or perhaps to allow Satan to enter.
Gently, Harry turned the door knob, and felt the cool, icy hand of something familiar yet distant.
Tender images filled  Harry's mind, as the influx of pain overcome his vulnerable body.
Right then, he did realise his existence was but a fleeting moment in the grand scheme of things.
In the darkness and light - he was empty, lost with nothing but icy chills that left their imprint on his eyes and hand.
Perfect, as it seemed, was the day. Time has gone past, and Harry had begun to forget his encounter with it.
Pleadings of salvation fell on deaf ears, as the death took his body into the void of emptiness.
Ending, as it was, a chapter that would serve no real purpose to the world as it was known.
Referring to his prior experience, he made sure Harry knew what to expect. The pain was never has he had thought. 


AND ON THIS DAY, HE WAS GONE: 


And on this day, we left him.
Bare and vulnerable, he lay. 
We wouldn't dare look into his eyes. We knew nothing would look back at us.


Stroking the hair of his head, we carried out painful normalities. 
The bell tolled - though, only one could hear it.
Ending the day that was our own. Leaving nothing in its wake.


The passing had caused no change. 
The soil fell into place, and lay in way that would hide away what we wished not to see. 
Kindness and actions of valour were discussed.


An ocean of sorrow dampened the wooden prison.
The icy glass further detached us from the world.
What was left for those, but to take inspiration.


And on that day, I left. 






Some Emily Dickinson shit right.




THE QUIET SUPPER:
He watched, as those around him gorged on the forbidden apple.
Their souls empty - relaying only vanity and the superficial.
Such burden he felt, for what had to be done.


The murmurrings of those around him, left him disgusted.
They had no right to inhabit his place - to take what they did not deserve.
The owner and savour should choose what is best.


Liquid fire covered his face, as he filled his righteous duties.
The selfish, sin ladden screams were like soft fruit to his ears.
He would be proud of the work he'd done. 


Adorned with metal bracelets and powerful uniform, he marched to the garden of Eden. 
The others were but confused souls who had found the place, but not filled their promises.
The glow of the divine - the white of his glory. It covered his soul. Alone he stood in exctasy. 


Il a regardé, comme ceux autour de lui gorgés sur la pomme interdite.
Leurs âmes vides - la vanité uniquement le relais et le superficiel.
Ces charges se sentait, pour ce qui devait être fait.

Le murmurrings de ceux autour de lui, lui laissa dégoûté.
Ils n'avaient pas le droit d'habiter sa place - de prendre ce qu'ils ne méritaient pas.
Le propriétaire et savourer doit choisir ce qui est le mieux.

Feu liquide se couvrit le visage, comme il a rempli ses devoirs pieux.
L'égoïsme, le péché cris ladden étaient comme des fruits doux à ses oreilles.
Il serait fier du travail qu'il avait fait.

Parés de bracelets en métal et uniforme puissant, il marcha vers le jardin d'Eden.
Les autres ont été confondus, mais les âmes qui avaient trouvé l'endroit, mais pas rempli leurs promesses.
La lueur du divin - le blanc de sa gloire. Elle portait sur son âme. Seul, il se tenait dans la exctasy.

Le silence était le cadeau qu'il accordées.