Welcome to Gaia! ::

*sighs* I wish I had more free time to log in and post.....

*scratches at the top of her head* It could be worse though

I guess I am not allowed to leave.... sweatdrop
*shrugs and shifts so they could both be comfortable*

4laugh

*hugs*

Ah! The joys of seemingly random slaughter.

~Begins to think of a post that would be so horrifying, even he would want to puke while typing it.~

Who says there will be raping, forced impregnation, and attempted murder upon unborn children? It will only be bloody. ^_^ Calm yourself and just let me build up a mountain of plots behind a weakening dam. Oh, but the skies will be beautiful when I am done with it all. The clouds themselves will be red with the blood of innocent and evil alike. I think it is perfectly safe to say that my clones apparent insanity is partially caused by the typists own depraved and half broken mind. Anger, lust, gluttany, guilt....These all permiate this life, but oh! The guilt of it all! The promises that have been made and poorly kept! The dawning of death upon ones doorstep. The revelations pouring in from the windows, untold numbers in which a man would lose sanity in attempting to fathom. And surrounding it, the thought and possibly truth to such thoughts that one might be preparing to settle down (as settled as one can get with a potentially blooming musical career) with a significant other and support that person through anything. The mere thought of it is maddening, yet strangely pleasing and comforting.

To feel all of this yet be filled with unimaginable bliss is surely of great cause to this typists temporary insanity. So in an attempt to harness such insanity, however breif it may be, the creative engine has been revved to maximum power. Maximum output. No more will the schemes be petty. No more will the day to day be filled with daily rituals of a quiet life. Like laughter ringing out from an empty room, fear will well up within ones self and perhaps even others as well. The agony induced pleasure it all brings.

But forgive me. I rant and I am sure that it has tired you. Likely you are shaking your heads at me, thinking, "What a fool he is for believing such follies. A fool he is for having such desires. A fool ever will he be for attempting to better himself through literary means." Laugh at you will I as I surpass myself over and over and create for myself a world of which kings dream they could have. Laugh at all of you, will I, who have shunned and pushed me down! Bow before you only to spit upon your shoes as you march up to me with a regal manner telling me what I can and cannot do. Mock you, taunt you, and grate against you as sand paper would against wood. My goal is only to enjoy myself and better myself. To amuse you, the masses, is only a side product. Of course, there are those that I pay much more attention to and make efforts to entertain, but that is another matter entirely. I am what I am and you are what you are. Do not try to make me into what you wish me to be or into what you know you cant be.

And now I wish to leave you for the time being with an echoing laugh with which you can fill your dreams so that they become nightmares. I leave with the well wishings worthy of a lawyer parting ways with a rival. I leave knowing that I have rambled, confused and raged on about points that likely have no bearing to anything you or anyone else may have been thinking or trying to ever make. I leave now to purchase a ticket for a concert I wish to go to.