Sonnet XVIII

I've just read what I wrote yesterday. I don't do drugs anymore and I don't recall having flashbacks or anything like that, but perhaps the effects last much longer than I thought. Ah, that dreaded lysergic...

So I wrote this thingie and I still don't know why. And I obviously don't have a clue about its meaning, whether it's good or bad, whether I should worry or not. Sometimes my mind plays tricks on me, says a song. Well, mine certainly does.

So if you come across this blog and read the little piece of shit just below these lines, don't pay much attention to it. The guy who wrote it isn't completely insane, at least to his knowledge. I won't erase it, though. It's actually quite funny -although I bet this wasn't its raison d'être.

Besides that, today the weather was warm and lazy. As I was walking down the streets, I remembered these lines from a Shakespeare's sonnet:

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
... 
But thy eternal summer shall not fade
Nor lose possession of that fair thou owest;
Nor shall Death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou growest:
So long as men can breathe or eyes can see,
So long lives this and this gives life to thee.

Now, that's what I call poetry! So if you're looking for serious stuff, please leave this blog as soon as possible and dedicate some time to Will's sonnets.

I bet you won't be disappointed.

Don't waste your precious time in here.