It's one of those things you forget about for years until the echoes make their way back into mind and you find yourself here, thumbing through old memories to try and piece together a picture of who you were ten years ago, twelve....You find yourself pacing old corridors in your mind, following ghosts from room to room in pursuit of familiar ( Read more... )

The kind that makes you stop and consider. I remember when writing here was an escape, something I did often, but now no one goes on here, no one writes, no one listens. I don't suppose that really matters, things just change ( Read more... )

Playing Skyrim, there's an active discussion in game about his character ( Read more... )

It's always the things that shouldn't feel like betrayals that do, the fact that this thing does so much so that it hurts offends my very ideals, it defeats who I am, who I became and takes away every vestige of resilience I had. That it's something so stupid is what hurts the most, not just that it never ended the way I wanted it, that it never ( Read more... )

Sometimes it's hard to believe the people that are dead are gone, that they are no longer a part of your life, relegated to memories and dreams, echoes and shadows captured in videos and pictures, remnants of a time that people fondly forget as they grow ever older in their chairs, ready to be just that themselves one day ( Read more... )

Driving with Halfsack has always been a unique experience, breaking speed limits, handbrake turns and racing random people on the motorway. The music blaring loud and the world snapping past at a pace that chills, the wind whipping in the open windows icy cold and laced with the sounds of the city we cut apart with sharp turns and quick thinking ( Read more... )

As fucked up as it all may seem. The consequences that I've rendered, I've stretched myself beyond my means ( Read more... )

The world has this wonderful way of throwing more of it at you, just in case you ran out the first time. Or in case you plan on running out any of the other subsequent times that life plans to fuck you ( Read more... )

Home is where the heart is. Where one lays one's head and where you hang your hat. A thousand and one metaphors for something we all know in our hearts the location of. A place where we can never be free, but we never need to be ( Read more... )

As ever, nothing is as simple as it should be. If there is a God, he has once again proven his eternal and limitless disdain for me ( Read more... )