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sarcasm and a pen

made of secrets and half smiles

Created on 2002-11-15 17:37:11 (#778265), last updated 2009-07-17

6,729 comments received, 6,820 comments posted, 55 Support Points

Basic Info
Name:CJ
Birthdate:1987-11-17

Contact:

_sacchi@livejournal.com
Bio
I'm twenty-one. I'm a feminist. I'm a writer.

* * * * *

Though the pitcher that goes to the sparkling rill
Too oft gets broken at last,
There are scores of others its place to fill
When its earth to the earth is cast.
Keep that pitcher at home, let it never roam,
But lie like a useless clod;
Yet sooner or later the hour will come
When its chips are thrown to the sod.

Is it wise, then, say, in the waning day,
When the vessel is crack'd and old,
To cherish the battered potter's clay
As though it were virgin gold?
Take care of yourself, dull, boorish elf,
Though prudent and sage you seem;
Your pitcher will break on the musty shelf,
And mine by the dazzling stream.


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* * * * *

I'm not allergic to anything. I am an enormous English!writing nerd, and pretend to be profound in a great deal of my entries, and lord knows you don't want to miss me pretending to be profound. I hate green beans. I love small fuzzy things like puppies and bunnies and kittens. And sarcasm. Ohio is the most boring place on the fucking planet, which I suppose makes me a boring person, but on a good day I will say that I am one of the few interesting (and by interesting I mean boundlessly strange) folks in O-hi-o. Chocolate and music are my vices.





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