The Existentialistic Woes and Worries of an Exclamation Mark Once upon a time there was an exclamation mark Who did not want to be an exclamation mark But just a vertical line with a dot underneath
“I am become a sour woman, I take no joy in mead nor meat, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings. There is an empty place within me where my heart was once.”
The Existentialistic Woes and Worries of an Exclamation Mark Once upon a time there was an exclamation mark Who did not want to be an exclamation mark But just a vertical line with a dot underneath
“I am become a sour woman, I take no joy in mead nor meat, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings. There is an empty place within me where my heart was once.”
The Existentialistic Woes and Worries of an Exclamation Mark Once upon a time there was an exclamation mark Who did not want to be an exclamation mark But just a vertical line with a dot underneath
The Existentialistic Woes and Worries of an Exclamation Mark Once upon a time there was an exclamation mark Who did not want to be an exclamation mark But just a vertical line with a dot underneath
“I am become a sour woman, I take no joy in mead nor meat, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings. There is an empty place within me where my heart was once.”
“I am become a sour woman, I take no joy in mead nor meat, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings. There is an empty place within me where my heart was once.”
“I am become a sour woman, I take no joy in mead nor meat, and song and laughter have become suspicious strangers to me. I am a creature of grief and dust and bitter longings. There is an empty place within me where my heart was once.”