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There was nothing under my skin but light,
If you cut me i could shine

Thursday, November 12, 2009
Eighteen days (:

These thoughts supported my spirits, while I pursued my undertaking with unremitting ardour. My cheek had grown pale with study, and my person had become emaciated with confinement. Sometimes, on the very brink of certainty, I failed. Yet still I clung to the hope which the next day or the next hour might realise. One secret which I alone possessed was the hope to which I had dedicated myself. And the moon gazed on my midnight labours, while, with unrelaxed and breathless eagerness, I pursued nature to her hiding places.

I must be frankenstein.
Who's Victor?

so, if I wished, I could follow you 2:39 AM