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| jeti
jeti
♀️
[652663]
[2004-01-15 01:10:45 +0000 UTC]
"exists. O_O"
(United States)
# Statistics
Favourites: 8; Deviations: 75; Watchers: 35
Watching: 9; Pageviews: 9652; Comments Made: 266; Friends: 9
# Comments
Comments: 86
Hello Jeti, if you see this please answer me back, I need to ask you something ;_;
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jeti....I really miss you and all your fantastic art...and I tell stories about you at college all the time...and why have you dissappeared? Come back to us. *pouts*
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JETI!
This is CPegasus stealing someone else's account to try desperately to contact you. You look like you dissapeared a long time ago, but if you get this send me an email okay? smc510 at NYU dot EDU
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JETI this is Hazel
friend me
we can chat LOLZ.
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Well Hey, look who has an active deviantart account now. Here is me, you old roomie. I'm enjoying cabin life with Caitlin nowadays...when areyou going to come back and visit us all?
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Hey. You should join Ataria.org.
It's a cool new site. o;
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...I really do wish you would come back and at least email me. I've sent you about (when I last counted) five/six emails, all to no avail.
Nur and I DO want to talk to you, but you're not giving us the chance to do so. =\
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Come back!
Read my journal entry & reply to my message. Please?
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*whimpers*
Where has Jeti gone?
Reply to my emails - and update your deviations, dangit. Your stuff's pretty awesome, but I haven't seen anything new in a while... :\
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Gasp. After a year-ish long haitus, Mouself has returned. WITH A VENGENCE. Except not. At all. Yay.
You memorized The Raven. You're my hero.
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Medi from KnN stopping to say hi! Very nice gallery.
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Yaay more deviant friends from NC! ^^ *adds*
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Hey Jeti, it's Llama, remember me? I'm on teh Shroomies oekaki.
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JETI.
Guess who this is?
(Yes, I got a Deviantart account to show off my photography. Go me.
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Cute style. Saw your link on Neolodge so thought I'd drop by and watch. x3
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Cute style. Saw your link on Neolodge so thought I'd drop by and watch. x3
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hey whats up? sighhh haha i remember when you used to recite "the raven" at the bus stop before school. that was so long ago... well hope things are good!
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Hello hello it is one rallygal who likes your pictures and the Raven. She also likes the dance Snape does to the "I'm so Sexy" song. Cheerio.
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The Raven, by Edgar Allen Poe, is an 18-verse-long poem, first published in 1845. It recounts the tale of a widower who is visited by a raven and goes mad believing the bird to be a demon. I decided to memorise this poem exactly half my life ago. I am four verses away from having the whole poem by heart.
THIS IS WHAT I WASTE MY LIFE DOING.
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Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
" 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more."
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Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore.
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And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
" 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
This it is, and nothing more."
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Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you." Here I opened wide the door;---
Darkness there, and nothing more.
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Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
Lenore?, This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
"Lenore!" Merely this, and nothing more.
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Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before,
"Surely," said I, "surely, that is something at my window lattice.
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
" 'Tis the wind, and nothing more."
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Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door.
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
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Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore.
Tell me what the lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore."
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
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Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
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But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered;
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before;
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
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Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore,---
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never---nevermore."
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But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore --
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
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Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
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Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee -- by these angels he hath
Sent thee respite---respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, O quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"
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"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this home by horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore:
Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me I implore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
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"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil--prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore---
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
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"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting--
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
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