Illusionary dreams are Whiter, The Original Sin bloodier, With our wandering Memories...We fulfill ourselves for that coming day.
2004-03-12 3:08 a.m.

Left on this wet mound of grass, a million different times, a million different ways. The meaning is lost on me for the last time.

I will not fall into standards again, it will always be whatever I want it to be. That is the nature of persception, isn't it? I don't want any respect, nor do I want any favours.

I'm sick to my stomach, and my blood flows thickly thru my viens, like rotting milk. Am I truely this afterimage? I honestly can not tell anymore.

It all reflects in my saccharine tears. I can hear you calling, and I know that it's time to go home now. I realize it's over, that I'm done here. It's time to go home. It's time to slip into my sleep, time to say goodnight or goodbye.

O-la Sanctus, E-u Sanctus... O� est la Lumi�re . . . Ah, c'est toi?

+==Destroy Once Done==+