http://search.deviantart.com/?q=by:brine&section=today deviantART RSS for by:brine en-us Copyright 2009, deviantART.com Wed, 09 Dec 2009 18:48:04 PST deviantART.com http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss http://s.deviantart.com/minish/widgets/apple-touch-icon-precomposed.png http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/6900926/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/6900926/ Sat, 29 Oct 2005 19:53:54 PDT
That's no shock.

It's a long overdue goodbye from me.



Don't worry, Devart. I won't cry. I've already forgotten you. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3548476/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3548476/ Sat, 09 Oct 2004 09:08:25 PDT
[link]

Skintwisterman's Folly is now open! And soon, there will be more. A hell of a lot more.

Suggestions are desired. Yearned for.

Feed my purse. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3541062/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3541062/ Fri, 08 Oct 2004 09:27:43 PDT It's about you, and all about you.

I see you suffer, and I am going to help. I know my flaws: Too far, too weak, too late.

...And I don't know whatelse to say. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3515886/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3515886/ Tue, 05 Oct 2004 01:33:35 PDT
Always a little too far, a little too long, a little too late.

In this God-drenched hubris, I will change the world. I'm tired of being one man. I will become one. I will wrench continents together. I will set the world up as my table.

If the flaw in my strategy has been my location, then so be it. But now it is time to move on and out. To break away the chains that keep me where I am and be a little closer, nearer, sooner.

I am such a bastard liar. Such a sick hypocrite. I dance to my own laughter. Building masks with leering grins and double-talking over my sins.

And yet, to ~you~, I can't lie.

I love that. I love you.



It's time to break the fucking world. And all of them will feel it. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3503423/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3503423/ Sun, 03 Oct 2004 13:52:00 PDT A poem to go home with

And where is the peat?
And where is the dust?
And where is the meat?
And where is the lust?

And no more fears,
And no more cries,
And no more tears
And no-one dies.

There are no skies,
There is no floor,
There are no ties.
There is no pure.

There's none to kill-
There's none to hate;
There's no free will.
There's no more fate.

And there is no gore,
And there is no skin,
And there is no law,
And there is no sin.

And no more slope-
There is no track,
And no more hope.
There is no black.

There is no grey,
There is no white,
There is no day,
There is no night.

There's none to abuse,
There's no mankind.
There's none to lose,
There's none to find.

And no demiurge,
And none to weep.
And none to purge,
And none to keep.

There's no divine,
There are no more ends,
There's no more mine,
There are no more friends.

And what of taste,
And what of touch?
And what of waste,
And what of such?
And what of rapture,
And what of rape?
And what of capture,
And what of escape?

And no more where,
No more of when.
And no more there,
No more of then.

There's no more right,
There's no more wrong,
There's no more spite.
There's no too long,

There's no too late.
There's no too weak.
There is no great,
There is no meek.

And what of locusts?
And what of flies?
And what of trusts?
And what of lies?
And what of vines?
And vinegar?
And what of wines?
And brown sugar?

The old order of things
Has passed away
And tomorrow brings
Not one more day

No more any;
No more some.
No more every;
No more none.

There is no exile.
There is no throne.
There is no meanwhile.
There is no alone.

And nothing to mind,
And nothing to steal.
And no more blind,
And nothing to feel.

There's no more breath,
There's no more earth.
There's no more death,
There's no more birth.

There is no heaven,
There is no hell.
There is no graven,
There is no fell.

And no more remembered,
And no more forever,
And no more splendoured,
And no more not ever.

And no more.















~by the kist lich ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3326572/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3326572/ Thu, 09 Sep 2004 16:59:25 PDT
I grasp my self by my tubes (swirling tender loving nerves through parodies of meat) pushing blood through my veins, until, like the first time--

The Entropy reverses. Just for a moment, but it does.

The Godrush is coming again.

Right now I could reach up and rip down the skies, or breach the womb of the earth and wrench out the cancers of sin from her.

All is loss. This is something more than all. It's you...

You're not my deity. You're my apotheosis.

And you make me strong. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3183901/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3183901/ Sat, 21 Aug 2004 22:29:30 PDT Akra'i alone, more the author hides a message; furthermore a small one, twice familiar.

Ease in the e's. A true quote wrote with once pointless codes. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3135075/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3135075/ Sun, 15 Aug 2004 20:51:19 PDT From healed to ripped in a thought.

Every time it heals, another bit comes away.


Just when I was safe.



I'm sorry, to you.




Now for tears. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3083336/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3083336/ Mon, 09 Aug 2004 14:20:37 PDT The mad- Derangel. (A) Sigil: Lost. (Akra'i.)
The blind- Avvs Nex. (M) Sigil: Betrayal.
The vile- Skuttleworm. (H) Sigil: War.
The sterile- Archophage. (A) Sigil: Barren.
The dead- The Kist Lich. (M) Sigil: Throne.
The hollow- Pen lo Debar. (F) Sigil: Hollow.
The drudge- Koruna. (A) Sigil: Machine.
The haggard- Napfezan. (F) Sigil: Langour.
The wretched- Kathewas. (M) Sigil: Minion.
The wild- Kamisori. (H) Sigil: Liminal.
The cacophony- Pozvizd. (F) Sigil: Noise.
The legion- Deich Mile. (H) Sigil: Myriad.

And then there was one. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3021212/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/3021212/ Sun, 01 Aug 2004 19:25:41 PDT
Aniseed

Looks- like pointless lust
Looks- like wanton greed
Looks- like human nature
Looks- like Aniseed

Smells- like judging colour
Smells- like denying creed
Reeks- like Ethnic Cleansing
Smells- like Aniseed

Tastes- like peer pressure
Tastes- like addict's need
Tastes- like drug possession
Tastes- like Aniseed

Stings- like reject child
Stings- like poison seed
Stings- like domestic violence
Stings- like Aniseed

Aniseed, this Liar's choice,
Aniseed, this bitter voice,
Aniseed, in human skin
Aniseed, the bite of sin. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2956585/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2956585/ Sat, 24 Jul 2004 11:23:40 PDT Wedding
A broken cross
A ruptured sore
A wedding dress
Upon the floor
A torn white sheet
A blooded bed
Slashed up meat
A half-carved head
A shattered knife
A worm filled cake
A broken wife
A funeral wake ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2857577/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2857577/ Sun, 11 Jul 2004 16:31:33 PDT Beside the ocean, so calm
My tears may join it ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2488875/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2488875/ Sun, 23 May 2004 07:48:17 PDT (I live with my mother and stepfather in a largish house).

What book are you reading now? Ik'st sereating teh bvuuk "The Scar" pry China Mieville akin. Il'st teh artistoria eschtrodinarioria. (I'm reading the book "The Scar" by China Mieville again. He's an extrodinary author.)

What's on your mouse pad? En olltch carr. (An old car.)

Favorite board game? Teh Rohl-pvlayink-kammes, escpeschiatoria Veervulf: Teh Apocalyptoria. (Roleplaying games, especially Werewolf: The Apocalypse.)

Favorite magazine? Ik sereads Knights of the Dinner table. (Work it out.)

Favorite smells? Ik adoritoria teh schme'el pro teh bvakink Pread et teh schme'el pro teh rain. Et teh schme'ek tu kett vron knu KDs et vron olltch bvuuk.
(I adore the smell of baking bread, and the smell of the rain. And the smell you get from new CDs and from old books.)

Least favorite smells? Ro'ottinkflesch. (Rotting flesh.)

What is the first thing you think of when you wake up in the morning? Tuur mama. (Yo' mama.)

Favorite color? Bvlacks. (Black.)

How many rings before you answer the phone? Two. (Ninety-six. Duh.)

Favorite foods? Teriyaki Chicken, Tchea (tea).

Do you like to drive fast? Ik nikt sdriiv. (I don't drive)

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? ...uck... nikt 0
(...nooooo.... really....)

Storms - cool or scary? Stuuren er teh kuuletoriest. (Storms are the coolest.)

What type was your first car? Ik habved nikt. (I have had none.)

If you could meet one person dead or alive: CHEESUS_! (Jesus. That's not really Hetchel, but it could have been.)

Favorite alcoholic drink?: Saké. SULL. (Saké. ALONE.)

What is your zodiac sign? Ik amst teh Kapvrikrornia.

Do you eat the stems of broccoli? Shya. (Yeah.)

If you could have any job you wanted, what would it be? En bvuukmann, uur saamtink viik komputitoria. (A librarian, or something with computers.)

If you could dye your hair any color? Vuite. (White.)

Ever been in love? ^.^ Shya. Tchefinitoria shya. (Definately yes.)

Is the glass half empty or half full? Taht est liik aschkink vetter tihs est teh ying or teh yan.
[link]
(That's like asking wether this is a ying or a yan.)

Favorite movie? Teh oritchinal Ring, eht Ghost in the Shell.

What's under your bed? Hell.

Favorite number? Pi.

Favorite sport to watch? Magic: The Gathering. Moschk mi nikt. (Mock me not.) ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2474421/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2474421/ Fri, 21 May 2004 03:07:17 PDT To Touch The Innermost Earth
(a love song)

It's taken so long to get up here
My tearducts shiver as I move near
But as I break through her crust, I will lose fear
To touch the innermost Earth

I broke up myself so I could break through
You'll hold me together while inside you
And your embrace
Will keep me in place
I'm going to touch the innermost Earth

I'm going to touch the innermost Earth
I'm going to hide beneath her stone
I'm going to touch the innermost Earth
And turn myself to bone
I'm going to touch the innermost Earth
My blankets will be her crust
I'm going to touch the innermost Earth
I'm going to sleep the sleep of dust

As far as I fall, I keep descending
As deep as the drop- never ending
I borrow from time, it keeps on lending
To touch the innermost Earth

I've come so far, to let you could hear my call
I fall for you, and so for you I fall
I brush through your skin
To feel you within
I'm going to touch the innermost Earth

I'm going to touch the innermost Earth
I'm going to hide beneath the stone
I'm going to touch the innermost Earth
And turn myself to bone
I'm going to touch the innermost Earth
My blankets will be her crust
I'm going to touch the innermost Earth
I'm going to sleep the sleep of dust

I've run from my past, and the past's gone
Of the whole human race, I alone won
I feel my self part, as we become one...

My husk rips apart as I greet you
My essence still drifts, so I can meet you
I touch the innermost Earth

I touch the innermost Earth

At last I sleep the sleep of kings
And find our meaning inside all things ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2445253/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2445253/ Mon, 17 May 2004 01:48:49 PDT
I can feel myself returning.
I can feel myself reliving.
I can feel myself recreating.

My fingers find gratification in the keyboard, my mind finds peace in thought.

...

I can hear the Childeren again. And there is an eleventh voice.
For so long, they were silent as I worked. And now...
Pozvizd, the Cacophony, will break the silence.

The mad- Derangel. (A) Sigil: Lost. (Akra'i.)
The blind- Avvs Nex. (M) Sigil: Betrayal.
The vile- Skuttleworm. (H) Sigil: War.
The sterile- Archophage. (A) Sigil: Barren.
The dead- The Kist Lich. (M) Sigil: Throne.
The hollow- Pen lo Debar. (F) Sigil: Hollow.
The drudge- Koruna. (A) Sigil: Machine.
The haggard- Napfezan. (F) Sigil: Langour.
The wretched- Kathewas. (M) Sigil: Minion.
The wild- Kamisori. (H) Sigil: Liminal.
The cacophony- Pozvizd. (F) Sigil: Noise.

...

Fucking pwned.

...

Recently registered with Pounced! dot org. Personal available below.

[link] ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2440792/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2440792/ Sun, 16 May 2004 12:12:13 PDT
Recently registered with Pounced! dot org (link below, to my profile. you wanna see the site, you gotta check me out first. Deal?)

[link] ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2418169/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2418169/ Thu, 13 May 2004 02:23:03 PDT ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2355986/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2355986/ Tue, 04 May 2004 04:08:48 PDT
80GB hard disk...
1.6Ghz processor...
New motherboard, graphics card, sound card...

old hard disc so old incompatible. Lost 6 Gb of information.

All my art. Poetry. Coursework.
The phone numbers of those I love.

If I had your phone number before, please, devnote it back to me.

I feel like death still. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2301217/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/2301217/ Mon, 26 Apr 2004 08:49:14 PDT
My life has become something else, now. I'm no longer who I was. I'm a beast of burden, spending every hour working...

I haven't even phoned Emily in weeks. I love her so, and I'm not sure she knows that anymore. I feel like dying.
most nights I can's sleep. I shake, continually... headaches, backaches. It's ruining my health, and I can't stop.

My doctor tells me to rest, but I can't.
I rarely get on here anymore, or do anything fun. I do at least three essays per day. At the very least. Some nights I cry myself to sleep.

I've lost my soul to labour. All I have is my music... I can't dream without sleep, I can't draw without time. I can't talk to my friends. All I have is Trent Reznor.

I've been listening to The Great Beolw a lot. I'm so glad I live by the sea.

I'm dying slowly because of how hard I work, because of how dumb I'd been. I've lost everything. I've become who I swore I never would.

How could I/Ever think/it's funny how/everything that swore it wouldn't change/is different now... ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1827259/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1827259/ Wed, 11 Feb 2004 08:58:08 PST A Salvaged Wire

Kival lept forewards, his muscles aching from strain. He had been moving for hours in the Treckan, the dust scraping his armour, the dark green rubbed until white, then silver, then red.
Five feet up. Then ten. The arc was large, impossible, and took him over a dustdune, despite the crashing wind on the metal and phalaggion dragging him back.
The jump was good, and took him yards; his time in the air was long, and easy.
Kival had to confess a liking for jumping in this manner... sailing through the air, his weight no longer as cumbersome. It was at times like this he considered aquiring flight packs... phalaggion and bone wings, or an air bladder, or perhaps a cruder system that needed fuel. He didn't care, sometimes; just as long as he could be protected from the dust here, the desert elements, the miles and miles of red, red substance that made up the Treckan.
Rust and keloid matter- a literal scar on the world.
Smiling to himself behind a visor made of clear ceramics, he shut his eyes and felt the lightness of body, drifting, mindless, easy...
His feet hit the dust and sunk down, a foot into it, before he fell forewards, scattering the matter behind him as he rolled downhill. Red scattered into the wind as he tumbled three times, rolling onto a flatter plane.
His feet sent up a draught of dust as he lay, on his back, giggling even in the hostile atmosphere.
He stood again, stepping forewards over another crest, sliding down the dust quickly, the speeding wind against his descent. It was blowing harder now, and he would probably have to return home in a little while.
As he moved his feet caught something, dragging it out of the sand with him. It was a length of phalaggion and cartilage-covered wire that had been buried here; while it was a little eroded, it still was very salvagable.
Kival turned and pulled it out, using his large gauntlets to dig through the dust for more. The length was surprising for a wire in such good condition. Gritting his teeth, he tugged it all out, pulling with it the last filaments of a broken machine.
Wrapping it over his shoulder, Kival turned around again. He had wandered a little way from his specialised Ickpack, and would have to get back while he could still see, before the duststorm and rain started.
Trudging back up the slope, he smiled at the gales. There were quicker ways to ascend.
Leaning his body back and bunching his legs, his arms swang down... and in a reflex snap of motion too fast to see, he was flying uphill, the wind guiding him.
A good day's salvage, in all.



"Phalaggion" is the most often used type of "Arachnion" on Eliace, man-made spiderwebbing.

Ickpacks are large transport beast/vehicles.

At least one clear ceramic does, in fact, exist. Clear Aluminum- often seen in Star Trek- actually has been developed; one can even buy a visor made from it.

[link]
[link] ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1802204/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1802204/ Fri, 06 Feb 2004 06:04:02 PST Somewhere between the silent beats

Tinkle like glass, you fallen pretty, for a liar you
have been. Truth may not out. Truth has outed. Truth?
Like a liquid, is truth. Drink deep from me, childe and
vather.
- Derangel

The mind pulses with memory and remorse

You FOOL, you WRETCH. If I could see you, I
would gouge out your eyes, and push their shaking,
crunching shapes onto my thumbs, and cry to the world
that I can see again. You sicken me. As everything.
- Avvs Nex

Incidents from the past

... ... ...
- Skuttleworm

Considering the present

Do no fall. Creation is your strong point. If you die inside,
what left will there be to make art...? I know this. I
am lost from beauty, and from creativity. Evade the
banal, vather.
- Archophage

Contemplating the future

Oh, vather. If I knew how to cheer you, to make you
smile again, I'd do whatever it took. I wish I could
write you a poem... spend some time with you in my
Copse. Come, vather. Spend some time with me.
-The Kist Lich

Regret, worry, and doubt

Do your spirits stink of ruin,
Has your god itself lost faith?
What tipped over your little statues-
Demon, angel, flesh or wraith?
-Pen lo Debar

...and something else...

..............
.....VA.....
...THER...
..............
-Koruna

Pride, confidence, and hope

Be at peace. There is so much beauty in dreams...
If you're hurting, vather, why do you not sleep...?
Close your eyes, and indulge. You know so how it
purges the bad things, how it quiets the Entropy.
Come, father... Sleep.
- Napfezan

As sleep always comes,

Whatever you need. I stand as yours, to blood, to
beyond, vather. My reason is to serve. If I can help...
Let me. It is my duty to my master. Just tell me...
...when you can make a decision... ...Please...
- Kathewas

And this entropy always ends.

You will never fail/You will never win
You will never rise/You will never fall
You, my vather/You, my vather
Shall be ridden by us/Shall ride us
Forever./Forever.
-Kamisori/Kamisori

And things are always made good.

Husk of Meat. We play a game.
Every move you make loses you a little more, and I
win, just a little bit more. It takes only time...
And you will lose everything to me.
-The Demonarch

I shall play his game. And I shall win. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1786473/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1786473/ Tue, 03 Feb 2004 06:00:54 PST It is the last turn, and it is his move.

Born, the hideous!
Born, the uncontrollable!
Born, the desecrated and the desecrator!
The violated and the violator!

___________~The Demonarch~___________

Like the childeren, but not of them.

~The liar
~The cheat
~The fiend
~The faliure
~The foe



The entropy is manifest.














]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1786359/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1786359/ Tue, 03 Feb 2004 04:56:23 PST
I hate to play this game.
I have to play this game. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1782658/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1782658/ Mon, 02 Feb 2004 12:25:21 PST Things have been hard again... but life is getting more creative in the ways it treats me, and the ways it expects to be treated.
I slept a little, the first time in four days. I do not know if I will wake tomorrow until late.
It will not matter. I need this cure. We all do.

Wonderful is the One Deity who created sleep. Thankyou, Lord, so that I may appreciate life: and, with but a thought...

Escape it. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1781271/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1781271/ Mon, 02 Feb 2004 06:21:44 PST Welcome, the Master of the Game of Loss, Demonarch.



What's it like to hear hearts breaking all around you, tinny in their cadence?



More bitter than a jagged, raw, scrape from ear to ear. Ugly and vile and vapid as mucus.


I think I'd like to sleep now.

But I can never run, never cry (tears are made from vinegar), never close my eyes and dream until the meat is return to dust.

Don't let them fool you. A heart is not made from flesh or feeling. It's made from paper.


I feel less lucid than ever. Everything is ruin.

This is inevitability, carved in bad letters deep in shattered feelings.

Fate may exist, prophecy may exist. But there is always the inevitable, forsaking and brash.

The meat makes facilable its own hollowness, the loss of everything that colours it.

Insipid in spite of self. Desire in rot, and yearning in despair.

Mental Entropy. . . . |- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Mental Entropy. . . . | I want to deafen myself so I do not
Mental Entropy. . . . | have to listen as I scream until my
Mental Entropy. . . . | throat rips
Mental Entropy. . . . |- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

I'm giving all over to Pen lo Debar now. She's used to this.

It is quieter in here.
















...the hush...


]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1755121/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1755121/ Wed, 28 Jan 2004 06:50:20 PST Revelations, reflections, and retribution spatter my life like bloodstains, and so many weals mark my mental skin so very deeply.
Waste of meat.
I don't know... I feel like I've been eviscerated, kind of hollow. But...
It's getting better. And I know, all this...
It's going to get better, and better than ever before.

I'm considering writing a bit about the Childeren, making a TCG based on Fleisch- a story which I will post fairly soon, once I have completed a bit more. It's where many terms of mine lie, such as the Skintwistermen.

Also look out for someone new. He is like the Childeren, but not of them. The Demonarch. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1743628/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1743628/ Mon, 26 Jan 2004 08:22:13 PST
If you need the details... ask. Shame stops me uttering here.

Avvs Nex
BB
Creature- Shade Legend
May not block.
Pay 1 life: Avvs Nex gets +1/+1 until end of turn.
Whenever Avvs Nex deals damage, gain that much life.
If Avvs Nex leaves play, halve your life total.
1/1

The Kist Lich
2WGB
Creature- Zombie Cleric Legend
If a card you own would be put into your graveyard or be removed from the game by a spell or ability, instead put that card on the bottom of your library.
Instead of drawing a card, either discard the top three cards of your library or return a card from your graveyard to your hand.
3/3 ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1728089/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1728089/ Fri, 23 Jan 2004 07:22:15 PST Derangel - The Mad - Androgynous insane angel - Sigil: Lost

Avvs Nex - The Blind - Hateful male wraith - Sigil: Betrayal

Skuttleworm - The Vile - Insectile Beast of War; Hermaphoradite - Sigil: War

Archophage - The Sterile - Androgynous barren angel - Sigil: Barren

The Kist Lich - The Dead - Undead poet-king - Sigil: Throne

Pen lo Debar - The Hollow - Female limbless spectre - Sigil: Hollow

Koruna - The Drudge - Great golem - Sigil: The Machine

Napfezan - The Haggard - Female Spirit of Sleep - Sigil: Langour

Kathewas - The Wretched - Male Dreamling - Sigil: Minion

Kamisori - The Wild - Symbiote insect; Hermaphoradite- Sigil: Liminal

---------------------------------------- ------------------------

As you may know, dear and gentle reader, I am a longlime player of Magic: The Gathering. I play online using Apprentice, a free download available from

[link]

I play often and use varied decks- many based on the personas of the Childeren. For example, here is a Avvs Nex 40 card Apprentice casual deck.

Land:
2 Underground Sea {Multicolour? Or Black?}
2 Badlands
1 Scrubland
1 Bayou

Artifacts:
4 Black Lotus {you bet it's casual}
4 Mox Jet

Creatures: {The Dauthi are creepy shadow-creatures that hate everything.}
4 Dauthi Slayer
4 Dauthi Marauder
4 Dauthi Horror

Other Spells:
3 Dark Ritual
3 Demonic Tutor
3 Bad Moon
3 Unholy Strength
2 Pestilence (sometimes you just gotta blow everything up)

And if Avvs was a card...?

Avvs Nex
BB
Creature- Shade Legend
Avvs Nex may not block.
Pay 1 life: Avvs Nex gets +1/+1 until end of turn.
Whenever Avvs Nex deals damage, gain that much life.
If Avvs Nex leaves play, lose 3 life.
1/1

Avvs Nex {Avus Necks}
BB {Nice cheap cost for aggressive play}
Creature- Shade Legend {There are, like 2 wraiths}
Avvs Nex may not block. {He's BLIND}
Pay 1 life: Avvs Nex gets +1/+1 until end of turn.
Whenever Avvs Nex deals damage, gain that much life at end of turn.
{Nice abilities to do with draining energy- just like a wraith!}
If Avvs Nex leaves play, lose 3 life. {Sigil: Betrayal.}
1/1 {Any higher would be insane}

Replace two of the Marauders with that, and BOOM. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1683350/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1683350/ Thu, 15 Jan 2004 06:16:56 PST a number of people): What is Derangel?

Answer: A simple question with many simple, dramatic answers (He is, he is Derangel, he is what he is, etc.) and one, long, complicated one.
Rather than taking the easy way out, with one of the shorter answers, I hand to you the latter, an answer in the way it was handed to me, myself.
First of all, he is a figment of my mind, one created by me. However, that is what he was; I created him so that he was created by another, and he has a history far longer than the one that which I wrote for him.
He began with me able to control him as any average figment of my imagination; however, like all my Childeren, he grew away from me, changing, becoming more, and more complex in all ways.
He was a made-up entity with a fictional past; and as he grew away, he became true, truer than I had thought possible, still trapped in my head- still only able to travel in my fictional worlds, able to live in my dreams, in my imagination.
...the scary thing was when he started telling me things, talking back, whispering secrets and lunacy. He spoke to me in dreams in words of English, and into my mind itself with concepts that language cannot explain concepts that connect a Rook's wing to a broken glass.
I remember him speaking to me, once, while I wrote. My imagination was working hard, and he slipped in through it, out of memory, into consciousness. And he spoke to me in words that sounded like the creaks of leather.
~draW me~ he said. It was hard to understand his speech at first, until you realised that the reason why it sounded like "Draw me" was because that was what he intended.
I looked at my imaginary view of him from a mental perspective, while he whispered to me a gift about a Jackdaw celebrating its hatchling's first birthday, spoken to me in Raven's caws.
He looks two-dimensional, in person. But he is far, far more. Like all of us he exists in four dimensions- or perhaps more; all three of space, and the temporal dimension. But he also lives in all the decimal realities between them, all the areas not just in time and space but between them.
Light cannot follow him there, and so, it shows him improperly.
Or this is how he was. Perhaps he has changed it. He still looks the same, to me.
Draw me he whispered in the same voice of razorblade-slashes. I looked up upon his shape... curved wings made from flickering black, inky straggled points of... what are they? Hair? Horns? A crown?
I still do not know. But, in pencil, I drew him in my margin, exactly as I saw him. Perhaps not as good as it could have been- this husk does not obey me that well- but as well as I could.
I heard him speaking in pencil-strokes;
thankyou
he said, soft as graphite. And in his thanks, he gave me a story back, a quiet story of paper and glass, for helping him grow further- like any parent would to their child.
I have typed here what I written in ink earlier. And as I write, I imagine.
I stand in a dark doorway, on my own, staring into a passage with a turn-off half-way along, lit only from the turning-point. It is all I can see except for the slight hint of grass on the outside of my vision, dim in moonlight away from me, and walls of stone.
The passage is long, and I cannot see its end, but I will not venture there, anyway. If Derangel is here, so will be the other Childeren, and as much as I love them, they can be very disturbing. I do not desire looking on Pen lo Debar's stumps or upon the silent malevolence of Grandfather... least of all do I want to walk in and find Skuttleworm, creating a massacre only worthy of the title "genocide."
I walk to the turn off, chilled slightly, my eyes adjusting to the gloom in the dozen or so steps until the turn-off. The grey stone looks orange here, lit up by fire from the offpassage; I turn into it, and see a room. Walking into it, I leave my point of view, and see it from third-person. I see I am dressed in a navy-blue shirt and pitch black trousers as my point of view pans back, moving it to see across from me, looking from yards away, moving across the room. I see stairs leading down, two flights, steep and thick. They are hard work to get down for the Meat, even in my imagination. Seconds pass as I clamber down, onto the glimmering stone floor... I note that only the bottom and the stairwell are lit, the rest of the room dimming to black quickly.
My feet take me foreward, my point of view moving back to my eyes as I gaze across at a fireplace- small, impossible to light up this massive chamber- and there, in his shadeless glory, the Derangel.
He sits cross-legged. It is impossible to know if he has noticed me. I go to sit, and he speaks. It is the... ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1677649/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1677649/ Wed, 14 Jan 2004 03:47:33 PST [link]

Goodbye, Kurt ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1672879/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1672879/ Tue, 13 Jan 2004 08:34:44 PST (Ritua pro teh Blik Chabfal)

Celebrations of the Bleak Cabal in the world of Autumn:

The Ritual of the Butcher: 31/December
(Teh Ritua pro teh Meachman)

The Ritual of Glyphs and Sigils: 26/January
(Teh Ritua pro teh Klyph et Sichil)

The Carving Rite: 22/February
(Teh Kavshink Rich)

The Feste of the Meat: 21/March
(Teh Feste pro teh Meach)

The Ritual of the Tinker: 19/April
(Teh Ritua pro teh Tincherman)

The Ritual of Skin and Dust: 14/June
(Teh Ritua pro teh Skein et Duusch)

The Quiet Rite: 08/July
(Teh Kitt Rich)

The Feste of the Machine: 01/August
(Teh Feste pro teh Machin)

The Ritual of the Poet: 29/August
(Teh Ritua pro teh Pomeman)

The Ritual of Iron and Rust: 26/September
(Teh Ritua pro teh Irn et Druth)

The Rending Rite: 24/October
(Teh Rentink Rich)

The Feste of the Book-- 1/December-14/December
(Teh Feste pro teh Sefre)
The Writing Ritual: 10/December
(Teh Karchink Ritua)
The Reading Ritual: 14/December
(Teh Rechink Ritua)

{Skintwisterman's Day: 13th/Jan, Today.}
(Skeinchistoraman's die)
{Celebration of the Breaking.}

This is represented in the fiction of reality by my husk's Birthday. Happy birthday me. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1672404/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1672404/ Tue, 13 Jan 2004 06:00:18 PST (Ritua pro teh Blik Chabfal)

Celebrations of the Bleak Cabal in the world of Autumn:

The Ritual of the Butcher: 31/December
(Teh Ritua pro teh Meachman)

The Ritual of Glyphs and Sigils: 26/January
(Teh Ritua pro teh Klyph et Sichil)

The Carving Rite: 22/February
(Teh Kavshink Rich)

The Feste of the Meat: 21/March
(Teh Feste pro teh Meach)

The Ritual of the Tinker: 19/April
(Teh Ritua pro teh Tincherman)

The Ritual of Skin and Dust: 14/June
(Teh Ritua pro teh Skein et Duusch)

The Quiet Rite: 08/July
(Teh Kitt Rich)

The Feste of the Machine: 01/August
(Teh Feste pro teh Machin)

The Ritual of the Poet: 29/August
(Teh Ritua pro teh Pomeman)

The Ritual of Iron and Rust: 26/September
(Teh Ritua pro teh Irn et Druth)

The Rending Rite: 24/October
(Teh Rentink Rich)

The Feste of the Book-- 1/December-14/December
(Teh Feste pro teh Sefre)
The Writing Ritual: 10/December
(Teh Karchink Ritua)
The Reading Ritual: 14/December
(Teh Rechink Ritua)

{Skintwisterman's Day: 13th/Jan, Today.}
(Skeinchistoraman's die)
{Celebration of the Breaking.}

This is represented in the fiction of reality by my husk's Birthday. Happy birthday me. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1646510/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1646510/ Thu, 08 Jan 2004 03:42:31 PST Ik amst sittenk at teh computer, typink vy, trinn pro chink de entink pro typ...
Eht ik haft en itean; Ik salle typ ent teh Hetchel. En die ik salle typ ent en vul wortbuk, pro teh translachia de Hetchel.
Abst nach teh die. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1474018/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1474018/ Mon, 01 Dec 2003 03:03:35 PST I do so much for it, my servile maggot. I let it shed its effluent, I feed it fuel. I let it rest when I do not want to. I eat when I could be doing better.

This meat. I am not fond of it. But it contains me, and it does so well with what I give it. It functions well; as inneficient as it is, it is complicated and it is so mine. I can control it better than anything except for my mind...

But it wants so much, so often! It forces me to sleep. It tortures me with hunger. It burns with thirst... my loins need slaking, my skin even scratching. It makes me need to empty my bladder and bowels. Sometimes to spit. To breath, inhale, exhale. Each new day's ressurection in bile. Even to shed dandruff, to shower away the grime and the necromass, to lose hairs... dress to stop lost heat. All so many problems, so many chores.

But if I were to stop all these, would I not still want them? To close up my gullet, and yet still want to eat the finest gourmet? To always have the right temperature everywhere, and never feel warm or cold? To remove my sexual needs- and keep my sexual wants? If I have to choose between losing all these and keeping them... it will be a tough choice.

But then, if I begin the path of removal, what would come next? Removal of the unnecessary roars of anger, the smiles of joy- the creativity, the art... would the beginning of removing flaws, removing the physical, also lead to losing my mental flaws...? My inefficient, so often pointless higher emotions...? And then...?

To be born so broken, to have a mind not like a cracked mirror but like crumbled marble... look what it does.

Nothing seems to work but the Story. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1452658/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1452658/ Wed, 26 Nov 2003 03:35:22 PST Why is it that when man makes something beautiful but dangerous, he covers it up because it is dangerous?
Do we not all have our priorities backwards?
Words are the most powerful thing in the universe: Life is a story. Write yours as a saga, write it in poesy, poetry.
Danger is worthless. Beauty is worthy.

Make beauty. And live. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1312165/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1312165/ Thu, 23 Oct 2003 02:29:52 PDT
*(As in those who speaks the fool's tongues. You are all quite clever people, I find. Well, most of you. It is I who is fool.) ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1143136/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/1143136/ Tue, 09 Sep 2003 03:43:08 PDT
I hope I was missed. I have much to share with you.
My family that was Derangel, Skuttleworm, Avus Nex and Archophage has grown: I have a new son and daughter.

I hope you love The Kist Lich and Pen l Debar as much as I. ]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/874996/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/874996/ Wed, 25 Jun 2003 07:30:25 PDT , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , castrox, , , , , , , , , , , http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/874989/ Wed, 25 Jun 2003 07:26:15 PDT , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , castrox, , , , , , , , , , , http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/874863/ Wed, 25 Jun 2003 06:44:53 PDT . . . .It's the final goodbye for her . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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. . . . . . . . . . . at least I still have:. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/843416/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/843416/ Tue, 17 Jun 2003 03:04:31 PDT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . .I am having a nightmare . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . And I don't want to wake up. . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/828643/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/828643/ Fri, 13 Jun 2003 06:11:49 PDT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . .For you I pluck out my teeth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . And throw them to the dust . . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/816196/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/816196/ Tue, 10 Jun 2003 02:41:54 PDT . . . No e-mails. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . No devnotes or comments . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . No E2 messages. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . No phone-calls. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . I felt a little lonely . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. And suddenly I got found [link] . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/816073/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/816073/ Tue, 10 Jun 2003 01:26:37 PDT . . . No e-mails. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . No devnotes or comments . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . No E2 messages. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . No phone-calls. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . I feel a little lonely . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/816060/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/816060/ Tue, 10 Jun 2003 01:21:07 PDT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/741419/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/741419/ Tue, 20 May 2003 04:43:30 PDT Danistan is a country that consists of a number of smaller and less important places -eg Rhyl, Chester, the houses of anyone who is a Comrade of Danistan- all over the world, and partially on the internet. I am the Beloved Dictator of Danistan, and I am currently setting up- and taking positions in government for- Danistan.

Members:
1. , Beloved Dictator and Benevolant Ruler
2. , First Lady and mistress of Foreign Affairs
3. Joe Blakesley, Meta-Prime-Minister
4. Gwyn Thomas, Sewage Inspector-General
5. Pete Marley, Minister of Outdoor Lesiure
6. E2: Hexter, Minister of Truth
7. E2: Natzi Kitty, Mistress of Sex and Money (she's not a nazi)
8. E2: decimetre, Minister of Love
9. E2: salome, Mistress of Offence
10. E2: Dragon Dave, Chancellor of the exchequer
11. E2: Hodgepodge, Minister of Defence
12. E2: Inflatablemonk, Secretary of Righteousness
13. E2: Coldfire, Chief Inquisitor-General
14. E2: Chiisuta, Diplomat
15. E2: Team Jet-Poop, Royal Propeganda Team
16. E2: Hashbrownie, Minister of Religion
17. Mandi Moo, Mistress of Press
18. E2: Oolong, Minister of Science

Militia:
E2: IWhoSawTheFaceRoyal, Guard
E2: Davidian, Major Major Major Major

Civilians:
E2: Tdent
E2: DejaMorgana
E2: MacArthurParker

Helen Jones
Helen Anderson
Tobin Rastin
All non-human Mammals, Insects and Avians
Paul Jones, General Incompetent, Incompetent General

Currency: The Ringpull
Capital City: Rhyl
Territory: The homes of any of the above, Rhyl, Chester, Llandrillo.
Countries/land/sites under our protection: the United Kingdom and United States, Everything2, Deviantart, [link]


More as it happens.
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. . . . . . . . ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/720898/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/720898/ Wed, 14 May 2003 07:04:23 PDT
bread + Toaster = Toast = Toast.
.'. Toast = Toast.

Toast is greater than 0.
.'. Toast = Toast.
.'. bread is less than Toast
.'. bread is less than Toast
.'. bread is less than Toast
.'. Toaster is less than bread, Toast or both bread and Toast.
.'. Toast = Toast.
.'. Spoon + Fork = Spork
.'. Spork is equivalent to but does not equal knife
.'. Spork is equivalent Toast
.'. Spork + knife = GOD.
.'. Spork + God = SPOD
.'. Spork = Spork
.'. Father + Son + Holy Spirit is equivalent to knife + Fork + Spoon

Spoon != knife.
.'. I've played knifey spoony before, then.

Toast x Buddhist = Taoist.
.'. Spork != knife.

Toast^2 = VERY TOAST.
.'. Cereal != Breakfast.
.'. Buddha != God.
.'. Toast + Buddha = Breakfast

Root Spork = you.
.'. Toast = Toast.
.'. Root (Toast + God + Buddha)= 42.
.'. Boredom + Necronomicon = Cthulhu.

Dough + Fire = bread.
.'. Paper is less than Scissors is less than Rock is less than Paper.

Cereal is less than Toast.
.'. Ninja + Samurai = Ninja
.'. Samurai = NOTHING.
.'. Toast + Cheese = Cheese on Toast.

Ninja = Toast
.'. Toast = Toast.
.'. Toast = Toast.
.'. Samurai + Samurai = Boredom.

Toast is greater than France.
.'. Toast is greater than Samurai.
.'. God is great.
.'. Cheese grater.

Therefore, three things are proven.
1. God = Love.
2. Toast = Toast.
3. Ninja.

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. . . . . . . ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/696857/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/696857/ Wed, 07 May 2003 03:43:51 PDT . . . . . SCIENCE is a FALIURE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . .Ignoring faith, yet needing it. It lies . . . . . .
. . So full of lies, it tries to make us think it knows all .
. . . . . IT KNOWS NOTHING . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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. . . . . .It fails to protect from disease, disaster, . . . .
. . Dehydration and DEATH. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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. . Medicine failiure, AIDS and SARS. . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . War and beuracracy, no utopias, a wart in the. .
. . . O-zone layer, scars of Hiroshima . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . No replicators or transport or clean labour . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . Science has done more for the world than almost
. . anything else man has made (tower). Yet it still . . .
. Overrates, lies of what it knows, (of) and explains. . .
. . . . . Almost none of what it does (Babel) fully. . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. it can describe each line of a picture the colour the. .
. composition position it can even draw such . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . BUT BUT BUT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . it still cannot appreciate the beauty or explain the. .
. . . . . underlying Aesthetics. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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. . . . . If we rate science by its own standards, it is a.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . FALIURE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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. . . . . . . http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/696839/ Wed, 07 May 2003 03:24:00 PDT . . . . . .I want to make a derangel comic. . . . . . . . . .
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. . . . . . . . . . . Keep it away from me. . . . . . . . . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/693883/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/693883/ Tue, 06 May 2003 07:09:07 PDT . . . . . .I want to make a derangel comic. . . . . . . . . .
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. . . . . . . . . . . Keep it away from me. . . . . . . . . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/693605/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/693605/ Tue, 06 May 2003 03:55:57 PDT . . . . Okay, I'm scared. Drawing my latest piece has . .
. . . . . Freaked me out. I need to see a priest or . . . .
. Something, a psychologist, a psychiatrist, someone. .
. Dreams have been assailing me and my art, my. . . . .
. . . doodles have been wierd. Perhaps it's too much . .
. . . . of something. I hope not, I really hope not. . . . .
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. . . I'm not too badly shook up. I'm more worried . . . .
. . . . . About how my friends will react. . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . Keep it away from me. . . . . . . . . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/677442/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/677442/ Thu, 01 May 2003 06:17:12 PDT . . . . . . . Solarobliterated . . . . Hatian Liuhap. . . . . .
. . . . . . . . Kakkophotic vision. . . Lux Mortem . . . . . .
. . . . . . Scotophiliac. . . . . . . . Sunnadaupus . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . Achluozoic. . . . . . . . Ikigetsu . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . Vitalitat obscura . . . .Tenebraic . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . Liubskadus. . . . . . . Hi ni Sinda. . . . . . . .
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. . . . . . . . . . . Keep it away from me. . . . . . . . . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/677326/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/677326/ Thu, 01 May 2003 05:01:13 PDT . . . . . . . Solarobliterated . . . . Hatian Liuhap. . . . . .
. . . . . . . . Kakkophotic vision. . . Lux Mortem . . . . . .
. . . . . . Scotophiliac. . . . . . . . Sunnadaupus . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . Achluozoic. . . . . . . . Ikigetsu . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . Vitalitat obscura . . . .Tenebraic . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . Liubskadus. . . . . . . Hi ni Sinda. . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . Keep it away from me. . . . . . . . . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/677287/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/677287/ Thu, 01 May 2003 04:34:17 PDT . . . . . . . Solarobliterated . . . . Hatian Liuhap. . . . . .
. . . . . . . . Kakkophotic vision. . . Lux Mortem . . . . . .
. . . . . . Scotophiliac. . . . . . . . Sunnadaupus . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . Achluozoic. . . . . . . . Ikigetsu . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . Vitalitat obscura . . . .Tenebraic . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . Liubskadus. . . . . . . Hi ni Sinda. . . . . . . .
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. . . . . . . . . . . Keep it away from me. . . . . . . . . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/670701/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/670701/ Tue, 29 Apr 2003 04:57:59 PDT . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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. . . . . Opressed. Repressed . Depressed. . . . . . . . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/667520/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/667520/ Mon, 28 Apr 2003 07:23:34 PDT . . . . . I made myself a new persona . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . .His name is Avus Nex . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . He is alongside Derangel.
. . .He is a Wraith, I think. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . .Or a nightmare . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .Or a ghast or ghoul . .
.or shade or horror or wight or ghost or fallen or. . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . perhaps . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . me. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/630249/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/630249/ Thu, 17 Apr 2003 03:31:04 PDT . . . . . I made Embly feel numb. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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. . . . . . . . . . Now I feel empty . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/627627/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/627627/ Wed, 16 Apr 2003 08:42:06 PDT . . . . . . Come closer and I'll break you. . . . . . . . . . .
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. . . . . . . Wait for me and I'll kiss you. . . . . . . . . . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/620557/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/620557/ Mon, 14 Apr 2003 02:49:48 PDT . . . . . I miss my love . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I miss my friends . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . I miss my college . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .I miss my family . . . . . . . .
. . . . . .Oddly . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . I miss my loneliness. . . . . .
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]]> ~brine http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/612125/ http://brine.deviantart.com/journal/612125/ Fri, 11 Apr 2003 03:31:02 PDT . . . . . Abuse. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . Blemish. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Violate . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . Slay. . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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. . . . . I will still love you. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
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