“They are all of one mind, their hearts are set upon song and their spirit is free from care. He is happy whom the Muses love. For though a man has sorrow and grief in his soul, yet when the servant of the Muses sings, at once he forgets his dark thoughts and remembers not his troubles. Such is the holy gift of the Muses to men.” - Hesiod
My muse and I reached reason.
I gladly ate her fruit,
with amative glutt and nill return.
She softly made known:
affections aren't freely laid.
one must watch, listen, read, examine.
Only then will she sweetly whisper,
Aye; then will we love once more.
---
In other news, I am no longer a "Student Actor". I have now graduated to: "Student of Acting". Methinks, at times, the previous title is simply my cover for "Unemployed bum who likes to pretend to be things he's not".
Here's to the future!
Godspeed,
-th3o.
