Springtime in the city of the power of evil. Had very much hoped to have left by now, and I wasn't just whistlin' Dixie then.
It will be a very difficult season. The geist. They awaken with a peculiar force.
Hence, perhaps, the paschal mysteries' place in the spring rites of Jerusalem.
And the gulag panopticon. And those who seem to feel my place is within it.
Passio Christi, conforta me!