Metamorphose

Metamorphose

METAMORPHOSE

I have of late, but wherefore I know not, lost all my mirth and indeed it goes so heavily with my disposition that this goodly frame the earth seems to me a sterile promontory; this most excellent canopy the air, look you, this mighty o'rehanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire; why, it appeareth nothing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, how like an angel in apprehension, how like a God! The beauty of the world, paragon of animals; and yet to me, what is this quintessence of dusk. Man delights not me, no, nor women neither, nor women neither.

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Saturday, December 04, 2004

Missed Connection

It really wasn't me, you were wearing your Macdonalds uniform and I was sitting beside you. Suddenly a vile stench filled our carriage and our eyes met....yours I felt met mine in an accusing fashion.... but honestly I reckon it was the old bald guy who was reading the metro just trying to 'ride it out'.

Anyway felt the need to explain and perhaps you owe me an apology for that flashing glare.

LS at 12/04/2004 04:24:00 AM

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