SMITTEN: lunacy glue for the soul.

And we hid under the blankets together, hid
from authority, time, and
the smell of sleep.
Beethoven can't save us
now, we are tonight.
We are dreaming.
We are honey.
We can't fail,
we can't cry, and we
don't rhyme. Everytime
our eyes meet and I lick my lips you know
what will happen if you don't put an
END to everything.
Give me the eye and take away your hands.
Together we will play
the heartstrings.

- Excerpt from The Notebook, a notebook (Woo.) I used as a substitute Blog while I was offline. "That's called a journal," you say? Nay, I say, nay. A paper Blog it is.