Geenstijl

Het is weekend. We zijn nog niet boven.

And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting 
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;

And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming, 
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor; 
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor 
Shall be lifted- nevermore!
Prettig weekend. En be nice.