Ah, bear in mind this garden was enchanted!

"Oh the werewolf, oh the werewolf
Comes stepping along
He don’t even break the branches where he’s gone
Once I saw him in the moonlight, when the bats were a flying
I saw the werewolf, and the werewolf was crying

Cryin’ nobody knows, nobody knows,
How I loved the man, as I teared off his clothes
Cryin’ nobody know, nobody knows my pain
When I see that it’s risen; that fool moon again

For the werewolf, for the werewolf has sympathy
For the werewolf, somebody like you and me.
And only he goes to me, man this little flute I play
All through the night, until the light of day, and we are doomed to play

For the werewolf, for the werewolf, has sympathy
For the werewolf, somebody like you and me"

heh - got told off tonight for endlessly quoting but never writing in this damn thing

but then "Like all writers , he measured the achievements of others by what they had accomplished, asking of them that they measure him by what he envisaged or planned."

don't think i'm no writer but like that quote - think it's more universal than merely applying to them that write.

I think it's possible that we're all guilty of that - judging others by what they lack in their life rather than what they plan - whereas we're outraged if no-one can see the depths and possibilities in our good selves (as much as we'd like them to be hidden we long for them to be public). Ee'um we really can be hypocritical wee shites can't we?

but, despite that, how much fun are people? like seriously, how cool and interesting are most people, because, and i know this sounds like mushy shit, you just never know. you may have someone fucking pinned down exactly in your mind as to who they are but they'll still surprise you. and although that can be scary sometimes it's also kinda cool i think.

right - am turning into a damn panda so gonna hit it - night