I can't stand wishy washy people; either of the heart or of the mind. Spare me the un-snapped backs + formless guts of a heart un-firmly planted. These non dwellers, who continually thirst, as the great roots of love pulse by. MB
The bears were bears way too early, and the bulls were bulls too late, you need to know when you are straying from fundamentals. It’s hard, when you are in the middle of the storm, to know.” David Lereah, the chief economist at the National Association of Realtors until April '07
#Thecreationofmanchester . NYE central Manchester "I think we see depicted here is "The Death of King Priam and the Fall of Troy". Priam is now slain by the soldiers of Greece before the Temple of Zeus, even while Cassandra stands above him rebuking the old king for ignoring her prophecies, and condemning the Greeks for their butchery. Behind him, trapped in what the Swedes call the mangata (a shimmering, roadlike reflection of the moon on water, here surely representing the final destination the gods have set him to tread upon so long ago) lies Priam's mortally wounded son, Prince Polites, who having sworn to defend his father but failed, even now in the throes of death reaches for his sword. The fighting spirit of Troy even now unbroken as it succumbs with it's dying breath. Beyond them all in the distance, so small now as to be overshadowed by the events surrounding her abduction but still physically central to the picture, is Helen of Troy; her legs crosse...
With the rain came still corners and resurrection. Woke up to all day rain.. Close contact. Laid into the quiet and let the reflective carry me through deep currents from a room slain forcibly shut. But I can't stop or help what I am. My beauty will not be harmed, my shine will not be robbed. I have to rise back to the Gods. And there is love. Death has done it's worst. I am my resurrected ghost. With surety, I dance , at my own hearth, in front of my own fire. I am woman and I cannot be stopped. MB
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