Better Now.

Nothing has changed, but much like New England weather, my temper has blown over.
I had my dinner, watched Excalibur, and had a beer. Then I chatted with a friend and went to bed.
And life was better when I woke up. Much like a toddler, I find that sometimes when I become cranky and obstinate, I have to put myself to bed before I can look at life objectively again.

Many wonder why all of this is such a big deal, when I'm able to get rides perfectly well. I'll tell you; it's because I feel like I'm using people, something I despise. I get used enough to know it sucks. That's the antithesis's trademark, and something I go far out of my way to avoid.
And there's another reason. Most of my rides come from Cervantes. I'm not seeing Cervantes. If I'm riding around all the time with Cervantes, eople will naturally assume that Cervantes and I are in fact rejoined at the hip. This is in fact not the case. He appears to be having no trouble getting along and broadening his horizons, meanwhile I'm still *$#!ing trapped in his shadow, in his schedule. God, it pisses me off...
So now you know.

Anywho, off to kill lunch,
- K.

Hope

Far below the earth,
below the living,
in a pit so dark and foul so that not even the bravest of men dared tread on it's ground,
there was a gathering.
A horde of demonic figures, their back bent to their work, all intently beat at a single shape on the ground.
Crushed and broken, it could have been any beast that lay there. Furred, fanged, clawed, winged, and black, it appeared not at all as it had earlier in it's life. Blood seeped from minute abrasions to mingle with the mire, color lost in the shadows of mud and dispair.
The blows rained down.

The creature slowly rose, still shakled to the ground and stove forward, to what appeared to be a great beautiful light. A mad, ugly glint shone from behind the thing's eye, as it hurled it's bulk against the chains, grabbing and worring one of the great filty things. The others laughed, and beat it harder still, knocking it back to the ground.

Just then, another figure, washed in an unholy light, stepped up, and spoke to it's fellows.
"It seemed that our plaything was loosing it's bite,
so I gave it what will pain it most, but keep it living longer yet.
Hope, my minons! Hope will keep this creature going longer than you can imagine."

- K.