On a certain Madame of mine

On a certain Madame of mine

She tastes of the color Red,

tender, tangy, supple, smooth.

She smells of sunset, of dusk,

of the mysteries which lie

along the border

between light and dark,

within the thick line

between day and night.

In holding her within my arms,

the world skips a beat,

pausing for a moment

granting us breath.

Daily worries & ponderous pressures

are lifted, forgotten, & freed.

Life’s weights and stresses

shared and shouldered

between us together,

for together no load shall overwhelm us.

For together,

our love is freed.

Blargh

Minor update: Working in Python has kind of been put on hold. Java is the language of the day in my Comp Sci sequence, and blargh.

Debate-wise, I'm heading to the Phi Rho Pi forensics nationals in Portland here in a couple weeks. College forensics still seems very surreal, but hopefully things will be more developed next year.

Worlds

Just had my first tournament of the term last Saturday. It was up at OSU. I ended up doing Worlds debate for the first time, which was interesting. It's a panel debate of 4 teams of 2. We found out the rules about 10 minutes before the first round, but by the end of the night we were crushing our foes. It's a rather fun event, but it precluded doing anything else at this tournament, so I'm a little wary of doing it again.
Speaking of other tournaments, I really should be doing more towards preparing a memorized event. I feel almost guilty for not doing so, but the bar for college debate feels so low. At least I'm creating my own social group in it next term.

Muahahaha. That is all.

What If?

Dreams of worlds which never were,

Idle fantasies which never are,

Bright new futures yet to be,

Haunting shades of memory.

Suspended pale droplet

Focusing attention

quickening breath.

From a silken mane

glistening, shining,

fanned out in an earthen halo

To soft peaks

gently directing the world,

framing the jewel for all to see.

A milky droplet rolls lazily

down sweeping curves,

Framed in gold

Frozen in time

An emblem of passion

A reminder of trust.

Moonlight Love

Do not call it ‘love’, my dear,

for we know it is not so.

Passion it may always be,

but passion comes and goes.

I care for you,

and you for me,

for that is who we are.

But do not call it love my dear,

for that goes much too far.

So take this gift,

and think of me,

so when we sleep tonight;

the love we made

shall never fade

in the soft moonlight.