Medicine Hat
The Bunneh Trail
Gulliver's Palace

MUD links
Seasons of Almadyn
Top MUD Sites
The Mud Connector
MUD Planet
MUD Domain

FFXI Resources
FFXI Homepage
Treasure Hunting

The Past

Wednesday, December 17, 2003
-*Tracewater Design*-

Finals are over.

The world has ended in a spark of magic and dust clouds shield the sun from our harmful rays. The moon stares down upon the surface, gazing through all the layers that separate the twos from the ones. She procures a smile. It's aimed at someone I know. He is happy with the facts of the stars and the puzzles of the game.

A showing of fireworks speaks from the grave
of the things that have passed and were never saved.

Return of the King opens today. Yeah, I still exist in the real world on occasion.

The calendar speaks of many things,
concealing messages in the numbers.

I have thought of many things as of late to try to rest my mind. I know at some point I treaded past some point of sanity and walked head-first into some chaos. I've taken the time an effort since I arrived there to make order of the scene. Now, all I once saw is clear again and a new door has been revealed. I shall venture through the door eventually. Through it will be that which I have not ever seen as well as the all-too-familiar sights and sounds of the fourths.

Take my hand,
do what you please.
Allow me this to ease the pain,
so I can get inside you.

What is happening to the fabric of my delicate reality? I will tell. myself.
A tear in the fabric, a tear shed for it. The doubles of mind, and the quarters of fate rear their smiling faces. They poke and mock the time now lost to the states in which I once thought.

Be here now or forever begone,
the path is chosen true.
On a day like this, I don't wanna say it,
but man, I'd really hate to be you.

The rain is pretty to me. I can imagine no better way to satiate the thirst of the gerbils.

Be what may, I'll have my day,
and it will snow throughout.
People will look left and right
claiming to know what it's all about.

The end draws near for this post, it did not live very long. But it shall be remembered in your minds as one to make up for lost time. One for the inner vagina. One for the monologue of the pencils. One for the shepherd's wife. One for the brown stuff. And one BIG last one for the fiends of the plateau.

Grey (3:50 PM)

0 Other reports:

Post a Comment

<< Home



  • Powered by TagBoard

  • Name

    URL or Email


    Powered by Blogger

    Weblog Commenting and Trackback by
    Rehuman² [Civil Afar]
    Free Counters

    Get awesome blog templates like this one from