~ Meanwhile as Logan is having his dream we turn our at attention to the next room over to a beautiful dark angel asleep, 'in the guest room of course.' ~
Max had gone in to her room and got ready for bed, still trying to sort out her feeling not really sure what to make of them. She climbed in to bed, having come no closer to figuring her feelings then she had been before. Max awoke in her living room. Wearing old style men's clothing, seeing that a fireplace had somehow appeared out of nowhere.
"Some one what to tell me what the hell is going on, how did I get home, and what are these clothing I'm wearing, and just here the hell did that fireplace." Max said in a less then pleasant tone. It was then that Max saw herself setting at a desk, also from out of nowhere. "Okay this must be a dream, but I normally dream of Logan and I am usual in his apartment."
Once upon a Seattle night dreary, while I wondered, weak and weary,
Over many a strange and weird volumes of interesting lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my apartment door.
"Only some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my apartment door-
Tis, this and nothing more."
\Well now this is different I don't talk like this, and what with the words, they sound very familiarly. \
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the rainy Seattle night,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
plainly I wished the morrow;- vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow- sorrow for the lost Logan-
For the rare and handsome gentlemen whom the angels name Logan-
Never to be named here for ever more.
\What the hell Logan dead now I know I do not like this dream, or nightmare. How, what, when. This is one of my more confusing, and less then pleasant dreams. \
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood saying,
"'Tis some visitor wanting entrance at my apartment door-
Some late visitor wishing entrance at my apartment door;-
Tis only this, and nothing more."
\When did I get purple curtains, I don't even have curtains, oh well it is just a dream. \
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating I was no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I seek;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my apartment door,
That I wasn't sure I heard you"- here I opened wide the door;-
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that dark hall peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no immortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Logan!"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Logan!"-
Merely this, and spoke more.
\That's it no more late night 'heart attack special' pizzas for me, this dream is making me wig out. \
Back into my room turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something at my window ledge:
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore-
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;-
'Tis the wind and nothing more."
At once I lifted open the window, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of old;
Not the least embarrassed was he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my apartment door-
Perched upon a picture of my brothers and sisters just above my apartment door-
Perched, and sat, and did nothing more.
\Okay now I get it, this is the story Logan just read to me The Raven by the depressed guy Poe. Tis only this and nothing more ha ha that's a good one. \
Then this black bird beguiling my tired fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore.
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou," I said, "art sure no crow,
\Thank god for that, I do not like crows and it's worse in my dream. \
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the Seattle shore-
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's darken shore!"
Quoth the Raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning- little help it bore;
For I can't help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with a speaking bird perched above her apartment door-
Bird or beast upon the family picture above her apartment door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
\Well this is a strange dream, only in my dream would I have a talking bird, and one that said so little. \
But the raven, sitting vacant on the picture, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he muttered- not a feather then he fluttered-
Till I scarcely more than uttered, "other friends have flown before-
On the morrow he will leave me, as others have done before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
\That's the truth, I don't have many friends, but the ones I do have I can count on though thick and thin.
Hey I'm getting good at this rhyme stuff. \
Startled at the silence broken by reply so quickly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Heard from some unfortunate master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore-
Till the destruction of his Hope that poor bird's burden to bore
Of a bird named 'nevermore'."
But the Raven still beguiling all my fancy into smiling,
I wheeled my motorcycle's cushioned seat in front of bird, and picture and door;
Then upon the black seat, I betook myself to think
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore-
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
\There's my baby, I didn't know I could say so many G words in one sentence. \
Now I sat engaged in guessing, but no sane thoughts expressing
To the bird whose fiery eyes now burned into my head;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the motorcycle cushion's leather lining that the lamp gloated over,
But whose black leather lining with the lamp gloating over,
He shall set on, Ah, nevermore!
\This dream is very depressing, I don't have to wonder what would happen to me if something happened to Logan I would turn in to some strange word uttering, crazy woman, who talks to animals. That's a good feeling if ever I felt.\
Then me thought the air grew stale, perfumed from an unknown smell
Swung by Seraphim whose footsteps echo across the wooden floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee- by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite- respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Logan!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Logan!"
Quoth the Valerie, "He's mine forever more."
\What the, I have never dreamed of her before, well maybe once or twice but I am usually hurting her like she hurt Logan, now she's telling 'me' that I can't have Logan. This is a strange dream indeed.\
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!- prophet still, if bird or devil!-
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Deserted yet undaunted, on this bleak landscape enchanted-
On this home by horror haunted- tell me truly, I implore-
Is there- is there life in Foggle towers?- tell me- tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the Max, "How can he love someone soulless forevermore."
\Now this dream, is really starting to piss me of now I am telling myself that I can't have Logan, what's next Zack saying that's just phony sentiment.\
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil- prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us- by that God we both adore-
Tell this soul with pain laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted man whom the angels name Logan-
Clasp a rare and handsome gentleman whom the angels name Logan."
Quoth the Valerie, "Your to young to be by his side."
\Okay mental note to self, find that bitch and kick her little ass, all over the place. If I am in a good mood, if I'm not then it will suck to be her.\
"Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend," I hissed, upstarting-
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Seattle shore!
Leave no black feathers as a token of that lie of thy words spoken!
Leave my sorrow unbroken!- quit the picture above my door!
Take your beak from my heart, and take your form from off my apartment door!"
Quoth the Max, "Doomed to be a loveless soldier forevermore."
\Going to have a long talk with myself, soon very soon. I hope I don't really see myself that way.\
And the Raven, never stirring, still is sitting, forever sitting
On the picture of my brothers and sisters above my apartment door;
And his eyes burning with all the seething of a demon that is dreaming,
And the light over him shone brightly throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted- nevermore!
\Damn bout time I was wondering when this bitch would be over with. I wish this help to clear up my feelings for Logan, do I love him, does he love me. I think I love him, but I can't find the words to tell him or make him understand. That's what I want to know you damn bird, not all this nevermore. \
~ So now we leave this 'happy' couple to finish their sleep, with dreams that are better left to imagination. So until next story, sweet dreams kids. ~