notes from the underground
#12
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THE THINGS THAT I'VE LOVED
______THE THINGS THAT I'VE LOST




THE THINGS I'VE HELD SACRED
______________THAT I'VE DROPPED


_____ Ahren hesitated to speak on Laruku, and was glad as the dark female began criticizing him with jest. Like an aging professor, he looked at her down his nose and nodded sharply. “Yes, I’m a fascist and an anarchist and rotten to the core,” he offered, suddenly pulling out into the street and bringing her with him. Despite his scars, his ruined eye, his too-long hair, there was a wild beauty in his display. “Captain of our fairy band, Helena is here at hand,” he began quoting, a sing-song rhyme echoed by his step. He pulled her close, grinning boyishly. “And the youth, mistook by me, pleading for a lover's fee.” He then let her go and half-ran, half-skipped down the road, laughing. “Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be!”






I won't lie no more you can bet
I don't want to learn what I'll need to forget




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