Having my way with Ulysses

Too poetical that about the sad. Music did that.

Musick has Charms to sooth a savage Breast, To soften Rocks, or bend a knotted Oak. I've read, that things inanimate have mov'd, And, as with living Souls, have been inform'd, By Magick Numbers and persuasive Sound. What then am I? Am I more senseless grown Than Trees, or Flint? O force of constant Woe! 'Tis not in Harmony to calm my Griefs. Anselmo sleeps, and is at Peace; last Night The silent Tomb receiv'd the good Old King; He and his Sorrows now are safely lodg'd Within its cold, but hospitable Bosom. Why am not I at Peace?

 

4:25 pm

Stretto

Dear sir Mady,

Got your note cute as a rat and flower where the hell did I put it some pocket or other it is utterly impossible to write today.  Bore this, my patience are exhausted.  I’m just reflecting on you know what I mean.  Don’t make half so free.  Accept my poor little present attached ’till we are better acquainted.  Might be what you like.  Elijah is coming really and truly.  Write me a long answer.  Do you despise me?  Have you the horn?  I’m so excited why do you call me naughty?  You naughty too?  O dirty Mairy lost the string of her drawers.  Bye for today.  Yes, yes, I will tell you what perfume.  Time makes the tune.  I want you to keep it up, call me that other world.  You must believe it is true.  I swear to Saint Cecilia, best references, it will excite me.  You know how.

In haste,
Henry what is he playing now.

ps.  Who will you pun punish me.  Whack.  Tell me I want to know, of course if I didn’t I wouldn’t ask, but why is the minor sad?  Feel lost.

pps.  la la la re I feel so sad today so lonely.

Messrs. Callan Coleman and Co., limited.

Mark time

You need drugs you need a pill / You need drugs you need a pill / Make it easy to do the drill / Make it easy to do the drill / Sound off, One Two10:04 am

Checked for an email from.  Might have gone too far last time.  No answer yet.  Saw a billboard recruiting for the army.  Join the army, win a Wii.  Can’t play it, though, you’ll be at war somewhere getting stds.  Half the military infected with something.  Rotten with it.  The other half intoxicated.  Kid in the billboard, eyes front, half closed.  Half baked.  Hypnotized.  Here’s your care package from home, some nice Vicodin and a bottle of clean pee.  But who needs the care package?  Opium comes from the battlegrounds.  No import fees.  Locally grown.  Drift through the war.  Old Tweedy in uniform.  Showy.  Women like that.  Wonder what his regiment was on when he was.  Hello!  Email for henry_flower@rocketmail.comShe answered anyhow.  An attachment too.