i'd just like to point out this random anonymous post...
i think it's remarkable...
"I have sat here at work for the last 2 days and read your diary "cover to cover". I feel compelled to comment on the fact, that even though your entries are both infrequent and pithy, a seething passion evades the intangible instrument, manifesting the spirit of a
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I myself, am rather lost at this point. All i can see in Keats illustrious pencilling is a man who either had an alternative idea of beauty, or sadistic sense of humour. For truth is anything but beautiful. For all I know of truth is its scarcity, its devastation and power. Those who have it hide it. Those who know it deny it. Those who discover it suffer. Those liberated by it simply fall into another supressed state of truth. Perhaps he saw beauty in its power... I do not know, for I have never studied Keats.
I will, continue to comment every once in a while -be sure of that. For I am rather interested in the idea of a freindship based on thoughts alone. I hope my message got through to you, other than being a nice slice of compliments. I stand by what I said. To the valient Daniel.
always tonks_ootp
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