I see. I saw. I sawed.

The first sentence by an old friend, the second by Caesar and the third by an incorrigibly ungrammatical fiend. (It claims to be an innocent morphological variant, no more.) Today, grammar and syntax must propogate perfection, no less.

I think i'm beginning to understand why I love the shore. It's that enigmatic feeling of release, a scary, unpredictable sort of what-if. Step step and another step and I could be engulfed, consumed by the mysterious darkness. It's comforting to think that it holds appeal rather than inducing fear.

Volatile is just an euphemism for the shameful truth. Volatile, in an uprightly straightforward manner, could be considered explosive, unstable, and a ticking time bomb. It's shameful, really.

[say uno. Now say university (oooneeversiti). Isn't that so much nicer?]