“When you are old and grey and full of sleep,
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace,
And loved your beauty false or true,
But one man loved the pilgrim Soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face;
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
And paced upon the mountains overhead
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars”
Intelligent, well-read, university education, conversationalist, non-smoker, missing that partner-in-crime.
I'm white, rather pale in fact...I also have trace elements of Neanderthal, and a pinch of Denisovan. Perhaps because of these inherited DNA elements, I'm rather handy with flintstone and making fires
With all I've read, thought and written, you would have thought I would be a genius by now. But no. Although I consider myself intelligent, I'm probably as silly and opinionated as everybody else.
I do not suscribe to the mainstream belief systems and ideological dogma, although I do recognise the fact that to some people, religion provides structure and stability.
Hobbies that keep me busy.