“I heard an echo but the answer had changed…”


More and more, I hear in the ‘sphere of “player burn–out”.

Can’t say I didn’t warn you:



I always chuckle when I see Roissy’s banner (the one I made for him).

Though the layout is mine, the words are his own:

“…where pretty lies perish.”


I wonder if he sees it.

I wonder if he knows what I do.

And simply continues, willingly oblivious, down the river.

Not wanting his final words to be:

“The horror! The horror!”

After all, few would want to be buried alone, in a muddy hole, in the wilderness by sycophants bound to their memory by fearful awe.


But that’s the rub, isn’t it?

Anyone can kill for the cause.

But who will preach it to the ignominious grave?

And therein lies the paradox:

The individual is everything.

Yet, the individual is nothing.



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