Blech. I hate having a blank page here. So. There. Now there are some letters. YAY!.
Well, if you're reading this you've actually taken the time to look around and have stumbled upon this poor thing (yeah, I get bored too sometimes), so I feel I at least owe it to you to make it feel like you haven't wasted your time...
I commiserate, you in-between thing. I struggle too, was once, like you, fat, over-ripe, gross. And it is cramped in here. You wonder - will an exit present itself? how much strength will it take to break out of this liminal state? I feel it should exhaust me to death. But, ah, to dry your wings! There, stretch them a bit more... That tornado? the maelstrom sweeping through Oklahoma - that's your doing. Or so they say.
And I'm still here - wrapped between quasi-intellectual bullshit and words I can't define. In shadow and stink. Dreaming dreaming dreaming with a mind of child voices. Phantasmal memories of before, filigree and dazzling. I remember the gargoyles and blood. Mourn the waking dead I mistook for ME. I sense the sleep is almost over - soon I must either poke out my black dagger legs or wither in this place...
Well, if you're reading this you've actually taken the time to look around and have stumbled upon this poor thing (yeah, I get bored too sometimes), so I feel I at least owe it to you to make it feel like you haven't wasted your time...
I commiserate, you in-between thing. I struggle too, was once, like you, fat, over-ripe, gross. And it is cramped in here. You wonder - will an exit present itself? how much strength will it take to break out of this liminal state? I feel it should exhaust me to death. But, ah, to dry your wings! There, stretch them a bit more... That tornado? the maelstrom sweeping through Oklahoma - that's your doing. Or so they say.
And I'm still here - wrapped between quasi-intellectual bullshit and words I can't define. In shadow and stink. Dreaming dreaming dreaming with a mind of child voices. Phantasmal memories of before, filigree and dazzling. I remember the gargoyles and blood. Mourn the waking dead I mistook for ME. I sense the sleep is almost over - soon I must either poke out my black dagger legs or wither in this place...