Holy shit! I just realized that as of this month, I have officially been writing this blog for two years. Ah, memories. Like the corners of my mind, they are. Thanks to who everyone who came out. More to come. yada yada yada.
When the endless servitude of woman is overthrown, when she will live for herself and by herself, man,--hitherto abominable,--having given her her release, she will be a poet also! Woman will discover some of the unknown! Will her worlds of ideas differ from ours?--She will discover strange, unfathomable, repellent, delicious things; we shall take them, we shall comprehend them. (Arthur Rimbaud)
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Froth, flute, fin and quill...At poor peace I sing/ To you, strangers,...Into the dogdayed night. (Dylan Thomas, Prologue)
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