When I am old from wandering..

..through hollow lands and hilly lanes,

I'll find out where she has gone,
and kiss her lips and take her hand.
And walk among long dappled grass,
and pluck 'till time and times are done,
the silver apples of the moon,
the golden apples of the sun.

HEY LAURA,

GUESS WHO GOT A BLOG?!

Me silly, I had you fooled then didn't I?

*hi fives*

Yes, well.. moving on..

my brain is currently all a-flame, in what can only be described in an Escher-like fashion of:

oh what a BRILLIANT analogy, at least I didn't say the far over-used "confused.com"

I need a holiday.. is it really only monday?

I think I may be slightly delusional, but what sane person hasn't thought that once in a while.. am i right? Ahhh, twas nice to see Ciaran again at GnS! Has a good old steal-of-his-hat for old times sake, him all scruffy with his student hair and student-can't-be-bothered-to-shave-ness. I love my drama friends:)! Ben's coming round to fix my laptop tomorrow, finally, my parents can have theirs back because I wont be on it all the time doing "homework"..ermmm.. "homework" being code for everything BUT homework.

I think this blogging buisness is just another fabulous way of procrastinating, I have things I should probably be doing.. but ah well!

And finally, a dedication to Laura Watkin's unnatural fear of a poem *clears throat*

"'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought—
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe."

xo

Posted by Jayne Dent at 22:00