Bye-bye, X-mas! A lot of people killed themselves on X-mas. We were the ones who
survived this round.
Some random writings:
For open air and sky I pine
In prison of my own design.
In tower tall, 'twixt walls of stone,
I wither fast, exposing bone.
No face of cheer, no friendly smile
May greet me in this place so vile;
Yet hope I sense in unknown fate,
So sit I in my cell and wait.
In a way, I can be glad of the evils that were given (done) to me, for I am
capable of keeping them to myself and letting them die with me. If they were
given to a worse man, he might in ignorance have allowed them to spread
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