The sad tale of Saephirothxx, a level 70 druid

[Sepia]

"...to summon back the Fire witch to the court of the Crimson King" - King Crimson


Do you feel it? Time speed up, accelerating upon itself, the last black hole, or, more will come but none to write the history. Enveloped by the beginning of the fourth tide and the 23rd solar cycle we move forward as Rand al'Thor reaches Tear.

Do you see it now? Time bending, repeating.

"..and life imitates tv" - Ani Difranco

What is time? Not as a mathematical concept, but how do we relate to time? How does time feel? What is contained in time? Are days, hours and years anything but markers? Skip, fast forward, add a bookmark, rewind.

"Roads? Where we're going we don't need roads!" - Doctor Emmet Brown

Time is what will kill us, probably at the same time we're killing time. Wars are there because some of us need to die for something else than us. When will the level 70 druid, purpled up hiss ass receive the same recognition as your great grandfather did as he died in Auschwitz? Did he fall from the guard tower? And that druid, probably female and male on the physical plane, a human created by doritos, dunkin donuts and pizza hut, when will he get his statue?

It's gonna come. Starting slowly, with ingame funerals, with a small cult following planning gas attacks on the tokyo subway way back over in seoul a 16yo kid gets a billion dollar deal and the children stand around him, screaming beatles sore, waiting for a ritual, waiting for something to fill their lives with.


I hope I die infront of the telly or playing world of warcraft 5. Dirty underwear stained with cum and shit and blood and they'll find a halfways eaten dog, enough pizza takeaways to feed uganda for a year and the place has got to reek, rank and dark and filled with shit. I hope the landlord has to tear it all away and renovate it completely and that is my last happy thought as my heart shits itself out, smashing the window and escaping into the cold free air. I hope that'll wipe my raid too.

These are my hopes and these are my dreams. This is all my feverish nightmare, constructs within constructs, the same system governs everything, the same system is repeated in all we do.

"And so your life
Your life has failed
You've made the progress of a snail
Don't worry you'll get your revenge
For we're all equal in the end
The small and mighty all the same
This life a shallow, facile game
Where every empire turns to dust
And every ego will be crushed" - The Tiger Lilies


As we kill time, time passes. Slowly but clearly and sometimes stuff happen in our lives and it feels like it goes so fast and you become paranoid. You think the end of the world is coming as you hope the end of the world is coming. You love them like brethren but their desire for stupidity is overwhelming and you look down at the kids on the bus, coming home from school, talking about how they've discovered dead kennedys, joy division, arthur koestler, aldous huxley, george orwell, lovecraft and the works of jack kirby, your whole life being played infront of you, infront of this insecure little nerd, sweating and those beady charcoal eyes.

Those beady charcoal eyes holds the future, our future in his hands. Will there always be a fight, always be a struggle?

"We are indeed the filthiest of creatures!" - Divine, pink flamingos

Your ego holds little of interest when it's been used to limit yourself.

Everything you can conceive is a weapon and there is little interesting to linger in Freud and Learys circuits. You attempt to interpret something you can't comprehend. Nothing can truly be comprehended. One can bow and smile and nod find your soulmate move to india join a self efficient fairtrade cocoa farm in southern america join medicins sans frontiers as a nurse or better yet a clergy stationed somewhere safe clicketyclack goes the typewriter and as you kill time and kill people with your typewriter of retardedness (+2) time kills you stone cold.

The cocaine from last night will burn away your fucking useless mind and as you sit on the phone with your husband or wife, not getting yourself to finally say I love you, a thought that's been cropping up in your mind for years but you couldn't see it, interpret it nor understand it so you never said you loved anybody.

And so we die, one by one, some by peace and other by violence and as the Dragon Reborn cling to the throne of power, the war cries of al'Lan Mandragoran fill the sky.


"In a hundred years time, it'll all be forgotten" - Knut Hamsun

[hunter s.durden]

I'm going to get fuckered up and read this again.

[East Coast Hustle]

I like this.

even more so because I just finished Knife of Dreams yesterday.

[Mesozoic Mister Nigel]

Especially this:

"clicketyclack goes the typewriter and as you kill time and kill people with your typewriter of retardedness (+2) time kills you stone cold."