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To Motivate Bossy

Ajabi
Posts: 1,504
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5/10/2015 2:29:39 AM
Posted: 1 year ago
I, Ajab, sworn enemy of Ayn Rand, swear that if Bossyburrito a.k.a Gabriel, a.ka. ShabShoral gets more than 2200 on his SAT exam (as I know he should) I will write an Ode to Ayn Rand.

I will also read Anthem and Atlas Shrugged. However if bossy gets less than 2200 on his SAT I will start ten debates against everything Ayn Rand ever said.

Here's one of my favorite poems by Pablo Neruda, just for fun:

*Waltz*

I touch hatred like a covered breast;
I without ceasing come from garment to garment,
sleeping at a distance.

I am not, I'm of no use, I do not know
anyone; I have no weapon of ocean or wood,
I do not live in this house.

My mouth is full of night and water.
The abiding moon determines
what I do not have.

What I have is in the midst of the waves.
A ray of water, a day for myself,
an iron depth

There is no cross-tide, there is no shield and no costume,
there is no special solution too deep to be sounded,
no vicious eyelid.

I live suddenly, and other times I follow.
I touch a face suddenly and it murders me.
I have no time.

Do not look for me then drawing
the usual wild thread or the
bleeding net.

Do not call me: that is my occupation.
Do not ask my name or my condition.
Leave me in the middle of my own moon
in my wounded ground.
ShabShoral
Posts: 3,229
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5/10/2015 3:43:10 AM
Posted: 1 year ago
At 5/10/2015 2:29:39 AM, Ajabi wrote:
I, Ajab, sworn enemy of Ayn Rand, swear that if Bossyburrito a.k.a Gabriel, a.ka. ShabShoral gets more than 2200 on his SAT exam (as I know he should) I will write an Ode to Ayn Rand.

I will also read Anthem and Atlas Shrugged. However if bossy gets less than 2200 on his SAT I will start ten debates against everything Ayn Rand ever said.

Here's one of my favorite poems by Pablo Neruda, just for fun:

*Waltz*

I touch hatred like a covered breast;
I without ceasing come from garment to garment,
sleeping at a distance.

I am not, I'm of no use, I do not know
anyone; I have no weapon of ocean or wood,
I do not live in this house.

My mouth is full of night and water.
The abiding moon determines
what I do not have.

What I have is in the midst of the waves.
A ray of water, a day for myself,
an iron depth

There is no cross-tide, there is no shield and no costume,
there is no special solution too deep to be sounded,
no vicious eyelid.

I live suddenly, and other times I follow.
I touch a face suddenly and it murders me.
I have no time.

Do not look for me then drawing
the usual wild thread or the
bleeding net.

Do not call me: that is my occupation.
Do not ask my name or my condition.
Leave me in the middle of my own moon
in my wounded ground.
Oh my god, this is the best motivation I could ever ask for.

<3

Have fun reading Atlas Shrugged ;)
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