| “Though my soul may sit in darkness, it will rise in perfect light. I have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night.” – Sarah Williams |
Invictus
Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and tears Looms but the Horror of the shade, And yet the menace of the years Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. It matters not how strait the gate, How charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul. |
I l l - a n d - P r o u d
or any derivative thereof [sorry—still under construction]
If you’re here, it means either you’ve been redirected from the old site, or I’ve given you this address personally. Or it could very well mean that you’ve surfed one too many cyber waves and can’t find your way back to Earth, in which case I envy you, or that you’re with the FBI and I’m under investigation, in which case you’re a bit late.
Anyway, there’s not much to see at the moment, due to a combination of homework, laziness, and possibly Divine Intervention, but I won’t leave you completely empty-handed. Clicking the kitty up there will take you my book page (hint hint), which is the main reason I opened this site. And I’ve revamped the guestbook, for what that’s worth, though it hasn’t been recording properly for some unfathomable reason.
In my free time (what little I have), I run this site, but it will probably only appeal to cat lovers. I also maintain a small site with two others (known collectively as “the webmistess”), which has become somewhat famous in the last few months. You can find it here.
I’m not going to provide you with a list of dos and don’ts, because I know you’ll ignore it. Be warned, though, that I do have a disclaimer, and failure to abide by it may result in me suing you for a large sum of money, and you in turn losing your job and getting a nice red stamp on your criminal record.
If you’ve already read my book, no, I’m not going to apologize. It’s satire, people. Unbunch your panties and get over it.
Oh! And I guess I owe a shout out to Catrina and Jules, the instigators of Satan’s karma. (Is that proper grammar?)
|
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul, And sings the tune without the words, And never stops at all. And sweetest in the gale is heard; And sore must be the storm That could abash the little bird That kept so many warm. I’ve heard it in the chillest land, And on the strangest sea; Yet, never, in extremity, It asked a crumb of me. |
