<sub>I met a traveler from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
- Percy Bysshe Shelley</sub>


This post shall not be of the cryptic and inspirational essence that richened my previous entries. Although much inspiration was had, I had something of a roller coaster wrestle with life. This will explain me idling and refusing to be rendered by anyone here as alive due to activity.

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Although the mystery will continue as I did take down what was written earlier here for privacy concerns.

It is all very inspiring and I hope I will exceed their expectations and thrive.

That is the brief telling of my disappearance, the fall from a comfortable position was shattering, and I am still shaky from the uptake. But I am eager, even with the knowledge that "Ozymandias" passes along. The fall is greater the higher you are.

Yours,
Elena.   

P.S. Also happily finished a number of books: Slaughterhouse 5, Metamorphoses, and I am almost done with "Life of Pi"