Lord_Humungus

And the trees about me, Let them be dry and leafless; let the rocks Groan with continual surges; and behind me Make all a desolation. Look, look, wenches!

Look at what remains of your gallant scouts. Why? Because you're selfish! You hoard your gasoline. Now, my prisoners say You plan to take your gasoline out of the Wasteland. You sent them out this morning to find a vehicle. A rig big enough to haul that fat tank of gas. What a puny plan! Look around you. This is the Valley of Death.
There has been too much violence, too much pain. None here are without sin. But I have an honorable compromise. Just walk away. Give me the pump The oil The gasoline And the whole compound and I'll spare your lives. Just walk away. I will give you safe passage in the Wasteland. Just walk away and there will be an end to the horror. I await your answer. You have one full day to decide.

Animating. At this point just cartoons. i plan to learn how to animate the dead soon. the world needs more goths. in addition to not being able to spell and once having my college english professor tell me "you know, punctuation is more than decoration" i also like icewater, screaming, and drinking WAY too much diet coke. I like clowns. I like orange cats. I like yellow dogs. i like bad jokes. i like not having a plan. I like being boring. i like hats. i like being a goof. i like moving to places i have never been to before. i like hot and spicy foods. i like ball point pens. i like more things and will add them later...

here is my favorite poem..it's by TS Elliot... I-We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass Or rats' feet over broken glass In our dry cellarShape without form, shade without colour, Paralysed force, gesture without motion;Those who have crossed With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom Remember us -- if at all -- not as lost Violent souls, but only As the hollow men The stuffed men.II-Eyes I dare not meet in dreams In death's dream kingdom These do not appear: There, the eyes are Sunlight on a broken column There, is a tree swinging And voices are In the wind's singing More distant and more solemn Than a fading star.Let me be no nearer In death's dream kingdom Let me also wear Such deliberate disguises Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves In a field Behaving as the wind behaves No nearer --Not that final meeting In the twilight kingdomIII-This is the dead land This is cactus land Here the stone images Are raised, here they receive The supplication of a dead man's hand Under the twinkle of a fading star.Is it like this In death's other kingdom Waking alone At the hour when we are Trembling with tenderness Lips that would kiss Form prayers to broken stone.IV-The eyes are not here There are no eyes here In this valley of dying stars In this hollow valley This broken jaw of our lost kingdomsIn this last of meeting places We grope together And avoid speech Gathered on this beach of the tumid riverSightless, unless The eyes reappear As the perpetual star Multifoliate rose Of death's twilight kingdom The hope only Of empty men.V-Here we go round the prickly pear Prickly pear prickly pear Here we go round the prickly pear At five o'clock in the morning.Between the idea And the reality Between the motion And the act Falls the ShadowFor Thine is the KingdomBetween the conception And the creation Between the emotion And the response Falls the ShadowLife is very longBetween the desire And the spasm Between the potency And the existence Between the essence And the descent Falls the Shadow For Thine is the KingdomFor Thine is Life is For Thine is theThis is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends This is the way the world ends Not with a bang but a whimper.