Welcome to Gaia! ::

eek I just realized I haven't posted anything, besides what I said at the beginning. So I went through my awesome files of awesomeness, and pulled a random file. These are disjointed thoughts and ideas from me. Actually stories and such will begin shortly afterwards. Oh and you might notice random breaks, it's because this comes from a notepad file on my desktop, which just takes down what you put into one line., so in order to make it not overstretched, I break it when it reaches the edge of the page. So here it is- Random thoughts from my head:

So what happened to my predeccessor?
I made a mistake. The best way to tell you the mistake is to tell it from the beginning.
So the mistake was that you allowed it so she could lie and kill?
No. The mistake was that I allowed her to love.

Yet, is rebellion truth?
To speak without warrant is to fight wrongly.
To not speak at all is to destroy oneself with inaction.

We act to create ourselves, yet in the end it is destroy ourselves.

I once caused a war between heaven and hell, and Paris burnt for it.

And I watched from my tower, as the armies clashed below.
Fires burned, and it was hell down there.

You want to be called evil, because you want to be punished and condemned.
Unfortunately, I am not going to give you that pleasure.

Are you a humanist?
Or are you just running away from your perceived sins?


We awoke the creature.
It's thoughts were alien to us.
So we tried to kill us.
And it responded, even though we couldn't truly hurt it.

And with that, he stood.
Against the armies of man, heaven, and hell.
The undead arose to fight against him. Demons, Celestials. They were all there. And the man only smiled against them.
That was the last we ever saw of him, the man of fire, ice, and darkness, the one's whose avatar is a creature of the dark, who disappeared into that storm.
The only bit of news we could find was that the whole area was destroyed, and dead bodies were strewn all over.
However, there was never a body found of a black haired man in a tweed jacket, and a discoloured fedora.
Some would believe that he didn't die, but I much more believe that he's suffering eternal punishment, for his crimes.
Whatever they were.

Memories aren't what I am looking for, but if you give them, I'll gladly take them.

What do I wish for?
Nothing and everything.
The precipice of the moment is all that matters.
Yet it is not all that gives one pleasure.
The safety of the moment also fulfills a role.
So why do we have the tendency to drift towards one rather than the other?
Because that is the nature of the beast.

You don't know who you are, do you?
You would imprison yourself endlessly in order to keep control, while destroying the last vestiges of everything that every marked who you were.

To think of oneself in unseemly terms.
To contrast oneself unfavourably in comparison to the ideal.
That is not love.
That is punishment.
Some say that love is punishment.
And that is so.
But it is a punishment, not against oneself, but instead against the world at large.

I am not even worthy enough for my own punishment.
That is why the multiverse despises me, and tries to go out of its way to destroy me.

What are you?
An asexual man who views the universe as cold, amoral, and not worth your time.
And you don't realize you have this problem.

People always ask for a reason on why you fight.
Some say they fight for fighting, or fight for a goal.
However, for you that is not the case.
You fight because that is your reaction to the world, so base in you that you cannot purge it from yourself.

I'm a slightly dark, mysterious man who doesn't let anyone get too close to me.
That doesn't mean I'm the hero of the story.

There is a point in every story.
The point when you realize that the story is over.
The point when you feel sad that the story can go no futher.
Sometimes it is the last page.
Sometimes it is when the story is wrapping up.
And you just can't help it.
But to cry, and feel depressed.
Because the story has ended.
And there is no more to cover.

Repeating that eternal mantra.
Endlessly. That is the power of it.
The power of those words to create one anew.

Running endlessly along the sea, trying to capture that ideal, to find it and keep it.
No matter how hopeless it is.

I am what I may.
I am what I may believe the social situation requires.
No matter how much of an individual I am, I am only wearing a mask.
How about you?

For their supposed sins, they were condemned.
The trial was a mockery, even if the crimes where real.

In one's dreams, people live.
We must act as necessary, or else the darkness will set in.
And then we will be destroyed.

This is my sword,
my sorrow,
my punishment.
And while flames may try to drag me down to hell,
I'll make them pay in blood, and pain.
That is my covenant.

Humans are bastards,
But it's okay,
for so is everyone else.

Children are just smaller representations of us,
there are good ones,
mean ones,
evil ones,
happy ones,
etc. etc.
Thereby children are cruel and idealistic at the same time.

So many people pass in and out of here, it's almost as if life is continuing outside while I stay still.

The queen who dances in the dark. Why is it that we play the game over and over again, just to destroy ourselves?
Because the answers you are looking for lie in the game, and it would destroy you not to even attempt looking.

Everyone and Everything has been tricked. We think there is always something higher and greater than us.
But there isn't. For that which is higher and greater believes the same thing.
And there it cycles in a never ending pattern, more and more believing in this higher and greater.
Yet it does not exist.

Othello Master
The Broken Chain
The Commoner who believed he was a God
The God who believed he was a Commoner
The Dark and Endless night, which would devour all eventually
Azathoth's Nightmare

I have been defeated. Defeated at my own game. The sting is less than I thought it would be.

I have learned, through life, that there is no such thing as sympathy with control.
When one has power, they will do as they please, yet when one has no power, they dislike when things don't go as they will.

I'm from where I'm from, and where I will be in the future
I think
Unless I got lost along the way
Then I'm from nowhere
Or somewhere
Or everywhere

I'm not a romantic hero of lore, I'm just a cynical young b*****d who happened to wander into the right place at the right time.
Or wrong place at the wrong time. Depends on your perspective.

Live- That is my command to you. You will live, or you have no right for me to pity you in the first place.

Lashed across his back were several scars, in the shape of chains. And he said 'These are my chains. These
are what hold me back. And these are why I am the pitiful being I am today. And I forged those chains.'

He looked over at her and smiled sadly, having just figured out what she did not know, that which she is. 'Damn.
And here I was just starting to take a fondness to you. Now I have to decide between duty or emotions. Silly things
the both of them.'

'This is not justice. I've seen Justice, committed Justice, been beaten by Justice. This looks nothing like that.'

'What I am about to do next is so bone shatteringly awesome, that you might feel the urge to run away and hide.
This is a normal feeling.'

'Fear me- I've killed thousands of ....
Fear me- I've killed them all.'

And Angels were falling, the battle taking place over and over again.

I may be Alice, or I may not be.
It's one of those life altering, confusing rare questions that come up once in a while if you're me.

The crowd murmured, as the man walked up to the stage. The angel asked,
'Why do you have no wings?' The demon added, 'Or horns?' And the angel finished up, 'for beings who don't have those are
nonexistant, as we all know.'
The man waited a beat before answering. 'Why wear things that have no value. And if I'm nonexistant, why do you care?'

'How did you know?'
'Because I'm a manipulative b*****d who has to control every aspect of my life. That's why everything happens in my life.'

He was made king of a land he didn't want, because he refused to fight for the crown.

Katsuragi's law- There is no such thing as a flawed heroine, just flawed designers who make them.
Keitzian Corollary- There is no such thing as a flawed character, only flawed writers who make them.