"You may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted lies; you may tread me in the very dirt but still, like dust, I'll rise."
davidcharles.substack.com
It is Friday, yes it's Friday! "Crossing from one year to the next is very much like crossing a border," Charles mused thoughtfully, as he cast around for a classy way to begin his weekly newsletter. "In some ways we're all refugees," he added, with a pompous air of profundity, "with no right of return to our past."
"You may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted lies; you may tread me in the very dirt but still, like dust, I'll rise."
"You may write me down in history with your…
"You may write me down in history with your bitter, twisted lies; you may tread me in the very dirt but still, like dust, I'll rise."
It is Friday, yes it's Friday! "Crossing from one year to the next is very much like crossing a border," Charles mused thoughtfully, as he cast around for a classy way to begin his weekly newsletter. "In some ways we're all refugees," he added, with a pompous air of profundity, "with no right of return to our past."