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04-22-03
"is it true that you are what you are" Ophelia said eventually, barely being able to push the words out from her mouth.
"what most have said are true, but not all words are to be taken literally"
"but why can't momy come with me? she knows all what's going...."
"NO!. i'm sorry, but she has her own place and time, which she served. you must know that your mother loves you very much and that she regreted this day for many years."
Ophelia sat in the buggy, looking at the various trees and brush that laid along the road sides. was this the man that claimed to be her father. was this the one that left many years ago. "Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping, waiting, and though unwanted, unbidden,
it will stir. Open it's jaws, and howl. It speaks to us, guides us. Passion rules
us all, and we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our
finest moments. The joy of love, the clarity of hatred, and the ecstasy of grief.
It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we can live without passion, maybe
we'd know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and
dank. Without passion, we'd be truly dead." - Angel |