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The land is still the land,
the sky the sky.
The people thrown about by waves
cling to this earth,
but still the buildings have no depth.
The land moves on,
the people have their breath.

Hard laced the people are to land,
these tags and labels scatter on the wind.

My Heart

upon your
altar of sacrifice
where it waits
beneath your sunrise.

Blood upon stones
my last breath
to give you life
if you embrace me
in your golden light.

Burn through me
my soul for yours
we rise.

Have a nice day.

In the spirit of Halloween, which of course is my favorite holiday, I was taking some conceptual photos for the horror group I belong to on DeviantArt.

Dolls tend to creep me out a bit, and so it was quite unsettling acutally doing this. I kept hearing strange noises and thinking they were coming to get me. I was really freaked out when I was hanging the doll up I heard these soft noises of something moving around in the gravel just behind me. It turned out to be my cat, and not ...

Lately, I've been pretty disappointed with my once-proud gender. Sure generations ago were were violence-mongering *******s with tendencies to xenophobia and misogyny.

But that stuff gets too much press these days. As a former boss of mine once said, "in lieu of the truth, people will always accept bad news as gospel". Now, men seem to be pathetic, lethargic, and overall undignified.

Real Men:

1. Work hard -- with their muscles, I mean. They ...