Maturity?

[recurrence_bat]

We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
Be sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.~ The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock. T. S. Eliot

Comments

[yaarg]

Note Prufrock never seemed to truly exist. A false shadow lingered over him... and he never allowed himself to actually live. And that worries me.