Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alterations finds;

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O no: It is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 

Within his bending sickle's compass come;

Love alters not even with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

     If this be error and upon me proved,

     I never writ, nor no man ever loved. 

                                       -Shakespeare, sonnet 116

Sometimes, you grow weary of your own tiresome words. 

So you borrow someone else's. 

Taaagggeeedddddddd

I have been tagged. *waggles eyebrows*

Here are the rules:
• Link back to the blogger who tagged you
• Take some pictures of your favorite thing in your room
• Explain why that certain thing is so special to you
• Tag five other bloggers

SO the person who both made the tag and tagged me, is Embers, of A Dragon's Whisper. Go follow her, etc. 

This was a much harder choice than I anticipated. Turns out, I don't have things in my room, unless I really like them. I went with Bog, who is not technically a "thing", but he's my favorite. So ha. XD

 Here he is, in all his glory. Bog wasn't feeling very photogenic, but I did manage to get a few nice-ish pictures of him.

 Isn't he darling?

NOW, the reason he is so special to me is because he's not only a cockroach, but my nicest cockroach. See, I have several others, but he's the nicest and doesn't try to skitter off when you hold him. Plus, he's adorable and fascinating, both excellent reasons for being a favorite of anyone. XD


I taagggggg...............,

Hannah Joy

  Cally

Jordy

Cassie 

Annddddd The Piano Girl!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some dancing in the rain to do.

When she saw their stories as colorful strands, she couldn't help but tug on them.

She gently coaxed the silver out, to discover it knotted tightly to the black.

And the pink was tainted with a sickly green, from being wound so tight about it.

But one color was always intact, and that was the desperate strand of gold,

hidden at the center of things.

Not always long, or bright, but always to be found.

She worked some strange magic she didn't understand and unraveled them down to their souls, 
till all that remained was a raw, tangled pile of colorful string.

But what to do with them then, she hasn't yet figured out. 

*dances*