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  <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:sirtheodorius</id>
  <title>sir theodorius</title>
  <subtitle>sir theodorius</subtitle>
  <author>
    <name>sir theodorius</name>
  </author>
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  <updated>2003-02-24T04:50:19Z</updated>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:sirtheodorius:2047</id>
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    <title>Detached</title>
    <published>2003-02-24T04:50:19Z</published>
    <updated>2003-02-24T04:50:19Z</updated>
    <content type="html">Theodorius is feeling detached.  He's speaking about himself but he is now someone else but he is watching himself but his eyes, that he watches the apparition with, are his own.  He stands by the deck and watches a thin, dandy of a man stand by Isabella, there are packages and luggage around them and the man touches her.  He can feel her silk dress on his fingers and then he kisses her, and watches himself kissing her.  She gets on this behemoth of a boat and he follows her.  He is going for business.  He is going for pleasure.  He is going away.  The timing was grand.  He waves to the boat as it floats away toward the land of dreams that were made to be broken.  He's got his sea legs.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:sirtheodorius:1764</id>
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    <title>apologia</title>
    <published>2003-01-14T02:07:37Z</published>
    <updated>2003-01-14T02:07:37Z</updated>
    <content type="html">She told me that she loved me again today.  It was not a completely endearing disclosure.  This time it was irritating because I felt that she no longer hibernated in her blissful ignorance.  Justine has gone away to visit her mother in the city and Isabella has taken much of this time to be with me although her youthful indescretion need always be hidden away from the prying eyes of my servants who's mouth's are only kept closed by the lash of the whip.  We were having a nice dinner the day before Justine was to return home and she opened her mouth and let the words spill out.  I stood to hide my embarassment, to keep from giving her a look that was filled as much with anger as affection, that might provoke more outbursts of the sort and was startled to see Missy, my twenty-two year old cook running from the room her face aghaust.&lt;br /&gt;"God dammit," I yelled and Isabella broke into a soft weeping.&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to..." she began to frantically apologize to me and I held up a hand that silenced more apologies from the child.  Why do people apologize when they are not at fault?  Why do people recant and run with their tale between their legs when they have done nothing to deserve to be chidden?  This is how she feels, she should never be embarassed by it, she should live in it, however wrong it may be.&lt;br /&gt;"Don't worry,"  I tell her, "I'll take care of it all..." I soothe with my words as I slip into darkness, I kiss her smooth lips and feel the prying eyes of paranoia watch me.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:sirtheodorius:1509</id>
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    <title>Vacation</title>
    <published>2002-12-25T04:02:37Z</published>
    <updated>2002-12-25T04:02:37Z</updated>
    <content type="html">I have finally returned from the city to whence I quickly made my exit.  I had no time to record my thoughts on the events of my love's birthday I only had the time to run to the city to find my mother dying of consumption.  She smiled softly at me as they bled her and she did not wince with the pain.  The paintings of her in her youth reminded me of the older days on the plantation.  The songs that she used to sing to me echoed in my head as I sat each day and watched her inner light fade one more little bit.  Then she passed away, it was not a surprise nor an expectation.  The pain robbed me of all feeling and my senses have not yet returned.&lt;br /&gt;The girl, Isabella stole my ring and this was something that I meditated upon as I sat by my mothers bed.  The ring that shown with all the light of the northern star.  It was my guiding light and without it I do not know what savagery I may betray myself by committing.  I cannot remember the deeds that I did when I did not sit by her bedside, when I was free to roam the city.  My guiding light is gone...</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:sirtheodorius:1208</id>
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    <title>Don't drown yourself in physics.</title>
    <published>2002-12-20T01:38:34Z</published>
    <updated>2002-12-20T01:38:34Z</updated>
    <content type="html">The girl sat in the warm tub feeling great solitude becuase the family was away and she could exist in the enclosing tranquility of the water and relate unto herself.  Her mind was full of the study of physics, a study that she was not supposed to explore because she was a girl and it was not her place to study science.  She did anyway and she sat there in the water amazed at how the pressure surrounded her, embraced her.  Her young mind raced to new discoveries and she felt no need for the Williams' to ever return, no need to tutor their children, she felt surrounded by her own intellect.&lt;br /&gt;But, too soon was her reflection broken and someone was standing before her bath looking down on to her naked body.  It was Sir Theodorius a man she rarely spoke to and never thought about.  He was the closest neighbor to the house and she had noticed him looking at her when he and his wife came to visit.  She became uncomfortable around him after the way he had looked at her at the ball, a look of not lust but raw hunger.  She had never been so uncomfortable as now when he looked down at her nude, vulnerable being and smirked a smile of pure evil.&lt;br /&gt;He slowly moved over to her and kissed her deeply, she tried to escape, she was young, she had never experienced something of this nature but, he was too strong for her.  He began to tear the clothes off his lean, muscular body and climed into the narrow bathtube with her.  She screamed but nobody could hear, the Williamses were away and the closest neighbor was her affliction from which she tried to flee.  He pulled back her head and bit at the flesh on her neck making a pain that could be felt but not seen.  He pushed himself into her, consumating the act to the highest degree, making her experience a feeling that felt like the white hot pain of a candle burning her skin between her pale legs.  He began pumping in and out, she continued to scream with each new movement, which brought a new pain, as well as the hurt he intentionally seemed to inflict upon her, that made his eyes flash with delight.  She cried out when she saw that the water in the bathtub had turned a dull red.  He seemed annoyed and pushed her beneath the water and she could see their body, as they seemed to be one entity, gyrating but all she could feel was the hair directly below the base of his stomach brushing her legs.  She began to gasp, her lungs seemed to collapse at her lack of oxygen as he continued to hurt her.  She began to feel a calm as though she was dying inside, the pain turned into a detached pleasure and her mind began to wander once again to physics.  &lt;br /&gt;But, soon her reflection was broken as Mr. William's pulled her up out of the water and she breathed in a massive sigh of life.  The man stared at her and shook his head, "What were you doing?"&lt;br /&gt;"I was lost... I was lost in thought."&lt;br /&gt;"Foolish girl," he muttered as he left the half-dead foolish girl to clean herself in the bloody water.</content>
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  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:sirtheodorius:808</id>
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    <title>hurts</title>
    <published>2002-12-11T04:28:56Z</published>
    <updated>2002-12-11T04:28:56Z</updated>
    <content type="html">That night was the night of the ball in town that every year made Theodorius physically ill but, every year he went.  He only attended to vainly show off his beautiful wife, making her nothing more than a dusty trophy, and to fawn over and lust after the young, supple flesh that always presented itself on the occasion.  The families servants were all busy in one way or another, picking up Theodorius' suit from the cleaner or startching the fine ladies dresses or something of this type, so Justine called upon Theodorius to help her prepare.  "Come dear, and help me into this corset, make sure and lace it tightly so that I will look as lovely as any women there."&lt;br /&gt;       "But, darling," Theodorius replied, "you are already the most beautiful women there, "he told his wife who's pale cheeks blushed brightly.  He quickly added, unbeknowest to her fair ear, "of your stature," making sure that he did not forget the young tutor of the Williams', their closest neighbors, a young virgin of 16 who was well educated and beautiful.  Theodorius longed to bury himself in her flesh and pledged to as he looked at his beautiful wife waiting patiently for her lavish gown and felt a ping of utter discontent.  &lt;br /&gt;       "Come now Theodorius, I must be getting ready and you simply must lace this and tighten it."  Theodorius sighed and set himself to do the task delicately pushing the strong strings into the simple holes, creating a device that would alter his wife's appearance to that of a slender beautiful maiden.  He gave the strings a neat tug but felt a sharp pain as he realized detachedly that his smallest finger was trapped by the pressure and was being crushed by the tightening.  He began to remove it but, instead hooked his entire left hand into the cords and pulled with all his strength causing tears to well in his eyes and his wife to scream in pain.  "Not so hard," she told him, as a mother tells a child, after regaining her composure.  He removed his throbbing, swollen hand from the laces and continued the task with a goofy, sated smile.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:sirtheodorius:545</id>
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    <title>smoke a cigar</title>
    <published>2002-12-08T00:10:35Z</published>
    <updated>2002-12-08T00:10:35Z</updated>
    <content type="html">She told me that she loved me today.  She looked up at me with those big, melancholy eyes and uttered those words that we both knew were not true but, we still burried into that spoken affirmation, that was more of a wish, and made a home for ourselves.  She knows how I feel.  I love, I long for her vanity, her beauty, her flippant, arrogant affection not for her.  She in turn, needs me, not loves me.  She needs to burrow her head into my chest so that she can clinch her eyes shut and pretend that I am that long lost love that taunts her at every entreaty.  Julian, her maid, heard the words and began to cry silently and pray, through clentched teeth, to the lord almighty, holding her crucifix in a grip that turned her knuckles white.  We both heard witnessed the spectacle but, we didn't care.  We were in love.</content>
  </entry>
  <entry>
    <id>urn:lj:livejournal.com:atom1:sirtheodorius:276</id>
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    <title>the longer days</title>
    <published>2002-12-04T04:46:12Z</published>
    <updated>2002-12-04T04:46:12Z</updated>
    <content type="html">The days have grown longer with this utter lonliness.  He sits in his favorite chair and sighs as the candlelight brushes his cheek much like the touch of his lovers' embrace.  He misses her so much as he moves slowly in the embroidered leather chair and tries to lose himself in the lovely Rasputina echoing in his vast manor.  It reminds him of live chamber music in warm concert halls with her.  The days have progressively gotton longer since he last saw her.  He lubes his mind with several shots of absinthe and smiles absently as the lovely green fairy flies about his head, she looks like her, she looks like his Isabella.  He quickly lights a pipe of opium and loses himself in the opiate but, he was long before lost in another drug... love.  Justine sleeps in the master sweet of their manor as he pines for Isabella.  Isabella sleeps as he pines for her and the days just get longer.</content>
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