So. Perhaps I was over-hasty in posting my latest entry with the photos of the cemetery, for two reasons. First, it's important to note that apparently images do not show up in the email feed, so some of y'all may have gotten simply the list of captions. Thus, they would have seen a vaguely emo and scatterbrained poem. The photos are the essential part of the post, folks!
Second, I must be clear. I am not a card-carrying Goth who wears excessive amounts of black eyeliner, maintains a grieved expression, and clutches a Nightwish CD. Though I occasionally indulge in my romantic sensibilities and attempt to walk lightly among oak trees, singing ballads (off-key), and looking for mythic creatures, it's not because I'm mentally imbalanced. Yes, I wrote my share of depressed love poetry in high school (fortunately, that's not longer my métier); however, I am not depressed nor do I immerse myself in macabre settings constantly. The cemetery is a place of quiet, of history, of beauty; I enjoy it for those reasons, not because I long to live out a Poe short story.
Anyway. Over Easter break my brother gave me this fantastic weapon that he re-made for me, completely of his own volition. He's gotten interested in steampunk as well, so he refashioned this nerf gun which will come in handy should I ever really get into cosplay. Thanks bro!
[classy carpet shot]