If Your Name Is Getting Too Heavy,

By Your Logic I Should Also Be In Charge Of Solinade Dances, Needlework, And Horse Thieving.

That's All That Really Matters In The End. Stories.

Music Sounds Different To The One Who Plays It. It Is The Musician's Curse.

There Are Times When The Mind Is Dealt Such A Blow It Hides Itself In Insanity. While This May Not Seem Beneficial, It Is. There Are Times When Reality Is Nothing But Pain, And To Escape That Pain The Mind Must Leave Reality Behind.

Just A Little. Just The First Faint Breath Of Love... It Wasn’t Dramatic, Like Some Bolt Of Lightning With A Crack Of Thunder Following. It Was More Like When Flint Strikes Steel And The Spark Fades Almost Too Fast For You To See. But Still, You Know It’s There, Down Where You Can’t See, Kindling.