the King's Daughters (:

palimpsest

BATTER my heart, three person’d God; for, you

As yet but knocke, breathe, shine, and seeke to mend;

That I may rise, and stand, o’erthrow mee,’and bend

Your force, to breake, blowe, burn and make me new.

I, like an usurpt towne, to’another due,

Labour to’admit you, but Oh, to no end,

Reason your viceroy in mee, mee should defend,

But is captiv’d, and proves weake or untrue.

Yet dearely’I love you,’and would be loved faine,

But am betroth’d unto your enemie:

Divorce mee,’untie, or breake that knot againe;

Take mee to you, imprison mee, for I

Except you’enthrall mee, never shall be free,

Nor ever chast, except you ravish mee.

- Batter My Heart, Three Person’d God (Holy Sonnet XIV) by John Donne

why does one week feel like two, or even three?

one day wrongs will be made right, and all stories told with perfect truth, but for now the heartache is ours to bear, the tears ours to grieve. and how can you understand save you once held the same pain?

the story i know is but a microcosm in the great tapestry of sorrows, woven by countless all over, nameless since time anew. for how many stories are heard in this age, innit. yet we trust in the promise that each account has been recorded, and will one day be judged with perfect justice, mete with perfect love.

i should keep my mind on higher things.

Happy national day, said the baby

from n, paper bullet shooter, heart stabber, blood pillow stauncher. also the owner of natsu, a babe so sweet that when i first saw her picture it didn't occur to me she could actually be real and on the roads. but real and on the roads she is, and grand. mmm. i've lost the rest of my commission in the sleepiness of 1.35am, but here are my impressions- a little night laughter, and a hand gesturing in the orange light, asking me to take it all in.

"Oil-fuel has given him a dreadful cough, and he has retired to the coast of Ireland for a little sunshine."

i have recently fallen for the periodic table. the various personalities, along with each painstaking obedient detail and the minuteness of it all, had me at rapt attention. if environments had been different i'd have studied chemistry, or quantum physics. i think i could marry a quantum physicist. for the moment, i'm aiming for a periodic table shirt.

so a while ago i was at various websites and readings - sometimes i think i try to make sense of the world around me when i do that- and i read up a bit about oxygen (don't ask why oxygen). did you know what oxygen is made in stars? and stars that do nuclear at that. nuclear fire from massive gk chesterton sized stars (five or more Earth suns) forms ash, and oxygen be part of that. also, it is entirely scientific to say "excited oxygen atoms emit green light"; in other words, oxygen atoms form the red and green lights in the aurora borealis.

also, a definition of faerie i want to keep: "... among these are the satisfaction of certain primordial human desires... the realisation, independent the conceiving mind, of imagined wonder" (tolkien). in the meantime then, the mystery.

well. while we're on the topic of being cool, apparently it's national book week. so-

Grab the closest book to you. Go to page 56. Copy the 5th sentence as your status. Don't mention the book. Post these rules.

"Oil-fuel has given him a dreadful cough, and he has retired to the coast of Ireland for a little sunshine."

i'm not sure if my thoughts have been trustworthy of late; what they think and construct upon. especially the future, which is such a shapeshifter. the only conviction of recent weeks that i would stand by: the deeper the confrontation of sin, the greater the love for God come down.