im the typ of person that likes to think alot. i kind of do it to much. most of the time i think about death, and for some reason im always woundering how it would be like if i was a criceket. every night and day i dream about touching the flames. what is it going to take for me to met my master? I feel that i breathe, i feel that he breathes , yet im punished . kick me down the stairs. still i wait in my cacoon. as i rest i wounder if the light will take me.all i have to look forward to are intensely deep painful dreams. everything is so dark.
we are all held down by faceless darkness. scabs of the past peeling slowly from a drak and distant memory. i am still looking for the supreme personality. this earth is crowed with a corruped poplulation.
