Peace, peace! he is not dead, he doth not sleep,
He hath awaken'd from the dream of life;
'Tis we, who lost in stormy visions, keep
With phantoms an unprofitable strife,
And in mad trance, strike with our spirit's knife
Invulnerable nothings. We decay
Like corpses in a charnel; fear and grief
Convulse us and consume us day by day,
And cold hopes swarm like worms within our living clay.
Funny that you think the cult of Scientology ever allows Tom Cruise to exit his highly secured location. Nobody really knows how the real one's doing, or if he's even alive anymore - all we get are high-level members groomed to be doubles. And they do each believe they are him. The real Tom Cruise is likely in a human vault, waiting to become a frozen head.
Read these "rules" AND introduce
yourself before your first post
Being true to what the artists intended
(opinion / entertainment piece)
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