I feel a nebulous desire to write something about my affect during the past two months or so. However, my feelings hardly ever amount to any kind of product. Hopkins had it right when he wrote, "but not I build; no, but strain,/Time's eunuch, and not breed one work that wakes./Mine, O thou lord of life, send my roots rain
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u need to go online more so we can talk. i get out of school this week. i am so happy. when do u get out of school? get on aim and hit me up. peace.
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