October 17th, 2004

the gaping maw

(no subject)

I snuck into bed around 6:30 for a nap, and woke up at 1:30. Oops. My sleep schedule continues to be whacked. I was going to post about the wacky squid-alien dream, or how I'm normal from 20000 feet, but the words aren't coming out right now. Bother. Maybe tomorrow.

In the meantime, here's one of my favorite sonnets:


I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shatter'd visage lies, whose frown
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamp'd on these lifeless things,
The hand that mock'd them and the heart that fed.
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains: round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare,
The lone and level sands stretch far away.

Percy Bysshe Shelley (1792-1822)
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