::Don't worry people im not Vogon::
His head was so calloused he could...he could run into anything.
Image's, sound's, textures, scents.
And lawn darts bounced RIGHT off of his head.
He was a ball so dense that not even the most sharpest of fleshling receptacles could penetrate..
Scrunched up so tight. Nothing gets in and more annoyingly nothing comes out. How to relate to the emotional ones? He cannot be touched I mean he can but he doesn't really feel anything. Or it becomes irritable.
So how can he deal with this now?
Where are the people with the mass murderer minds? And their array of exquisite knifes.
Or the ones with dark clouds that rain apon the seed
and with time a flower will blossom like an open hand.
Image's, sound's, textures, scents.
And lawn darts bounced RIGHT off of his head.
He was a ball so dense that not even the most sharpest of fleshling receptacles could penetrate..
Scrunched up so tight. Nothing gets in and more annoyingly nothing comes out. How to relate to the emotional ones? He cannot be touched I mean he can but he doesn't really feel anything. Or it becomes irritable.
So how can he deal with this now?
Where are the people with the mass murderer minds? And their array of exquisite knifes.
Or the ones with dark clouds that rain apon the seed
and with time a flower will blossom like an open hand.