After a few minutes of this, Jealousy decided to head to his library. Revenge accompanied him. Once he was there, he sat at his desk and began writing something, his smile growing wider.
Well, I was writing poetry, but it accidentally turned into plotting! And I know I'm not supposed to do that, so I'm going to write a letter to a colleague!
I.... truly do not understand how he can sound so cheerful saying that he was about to go back to his old ways.
What is a poet? An unhappy person who hides deep anguish in his heart, but whose lips are so formed that when the sigh and cry pass through them, it sounds like lovely music. — Søren Kierkegaard, Philosopher & Theologian
