“Are all Polish men as arrogant and intrusive and rude as you?” “Few measure up to my standards, but most try.” - Orson Scott Card

I went to the Garden of Love,
And saw what I never had seen:
A chapel was built in the midst,
Where I used to play on the green. And the gates of this chapel were shut,
And ‘Thou shalt not’ writ over the door,
So I turned to the Garden of Love,
That so many sweet flowers bore, And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be:
And priests in black gowns were walking their rounds,
And binding with briars my joys and desires.

I'm losing Savanna.
That's good. No one should own someone else.

I had never believed I had a soul until then, when it laid bare a hurt more deep than any part of me could bear.