Got anything random to say? L&D Version.

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I hope my date actually happens and I'm not ghosted or stood up.

I'm having a sleep-over and it won't even be my birthday!

Have fun!

Not tonight, sadly ... but I'll have enough fun for us both, I'm sure!

Last night, I dreamt that I went on a chaperoned date with a member of WP. I’m not saying who.

Ohhh me me me?
Or could I be the chaperone?

No and no.

The chaperone was a little person who had a poor command of the English language.

I dreamt about Jackie Chan once. Come to think of it, I WAS watching a lot of his movies at the time…

He was just pure awesomeness back in the day.

More Prufrock, always:

And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head grown slightly bald brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker,
And in short, I was afraid.

And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while,
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”—
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
That is not it, at all.”

And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while,
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen:
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
“That is not it at all,
That is not what I meant, at all.”


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One just feels so seen, Thomas.

^