“She has the best journal here: She writes her lines with the raw lightening and the fire that follows it.
She has some of the hottest photosets on the internet: She reveals your truth with her sex.
She has the ability to convert even the long enrooted bitterness into sweet fruit: She is like a tree.
Even when she scorns life's ironies, drops of life stream and blossom through her words, pores, and veins. She dares and does not stay bent: She is like a recurrent resurrection.
“ I, like everyone else, really look forward to your stories. I think it would be an experience to meet and have a long conversation with you. If you can't come to me, I'll come to you! ”
“how can I love a little midget of power anymore than I do?
she is upset that I havent come to see her yet... but she is also so intimidated by her love and awe of me that she is secretly happy that I havent...”
“I think about Lily more than I should.
I find myself experiencing things and wondering what she would think of them.
Whenever I get into a pensive headspace, there she is. She makes me feel truly appreciated and like a fraud at the same time.
I imagine her to be gifted and intense. I look forward to the comments she leaves me, and her stories.”
“The most fascinating girl, ever. Her journal entries never cease to amaze me and she is incredibly beautiful aswell. I could go on forever but it would just sound cheesy so i'll stop now. Hah.”
Lily and I met, not entirely by accident (it's no accident when you meet someone like Lily, William Blake will tell you) on August 28th as I stepped out for a cigarette at a friend's wedding. Plain and simple, the lady is an arsonist of the soul. She torched me right then and there on the sidewalk.
Blake had someone like her in mind when he wrote "THE TIGER." Each line resonates with the essence of the woman I know as Lily.
TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?”
“Lily,
I know in my dark hours I can look to you and know there is something better out there. That there is hope, and I just have to have faith that I'll find it.
you are a goddess... my capricorn goddess... I've wandered this earth trying to find a good woman like you... someone like me... raging, restless, hopefilled but fatalistic.. you are everything I could have ever imagined and more... I cannot wait to meet you...
one day this year.. we will be face to face... sipping hot coffee and marvelling at the power in each other shy little faces...
“my favourite journal on the site...her entires should be made into a book one day..just reading them give me fuckin goosebumps...great sets(who else could get richard kern to do a sg set) and also a sexxiee lady on top of all of that...dahum!”
“i rush to your site everyday.i read your journal over and over your words cut deep into the soul;or maybe i rush to read about the life i wish i could live.and that is being free.in any case your words are truth.so write on so i may live”
IPOD
RADIO
PICS
I, like everyone else, really look forward to your stories. I think it would be an experience to meet and have a long conversation with you. If you can't come to me, I'll come to you! 
”
Sophronia
I'm lost
August 2005
JUL 11, 2006 09:43 PM