So it begins again, the cycle anew. Will it ever cease. Little changes, my world so limited, so fragile, fractured by the tiniest pebble. How do I reinforce the infrastructure, how do I strengthen the supports. Can they be strengthened. The answer has to be yes. For I've come this far. Still I linger, even if splintered and worn.

Bring the pain, it is pleasure. The boundary between them blurs. For they are one in the same. One accompanying the other, never sperate, always constant. Bring the pleasure, pain is equal. Pain and pleasure, they mix like a volatile cocktail, spewing together seamlessly. Take the pain, bring the pleasure, or reverse. Pain is pleasure, pain is pain, pleasure is pain, why separate, why be afraid, embrace the duality that i...

Anger is the fuel which ignites my soul and burns my core. It consumes me, engulfing my being, trying to take over, yet never overcoming me. I struggle on day by day, the anger locked tight below, but always lingering. Only in brief, fleeting moments does the anger come to the surface. Fits of intense rage, pain being dulled, feeling strong, powerful. Most often vented in the form of breaking and smashing bottles or piece...

I don't belong in "their" world. "They" being everyone other than me. They live in a world of light and hope, while I dwell in shadow and darkness. It's all I know, why change what is comfortable, or do I hate it. Part of me must or I would have succumb to my twisted impulses long ago.

My life is like a giant hill and I am constantly pushing a huge rock up it. Unless I always push and never give up, the rock comes rolling back all the way to the bottom and if I'm not careful it crushes me. So I always have to struggle and force myself to keep pushing that rock all the time or risk losing what I've accomplished. It's a really, really big rock.

Someone set me free. Someone push me over the edge. Fuck with me, make fun of me, taunt me. Push me over the great chasm I so often stand upon and finally set me free. Allow me to succumb to my twisted desires and evil impulses. I am waiting for the time to come. Waiting for the chance to be set free. I know the day will come, it must, or I'll go crazy thinking about it.

He wasn't born; he had no parents, no family. He was created. Created by the Centuri Delegates, a secret organization at the heart of the Deag23 government, one of the major rulers in this part of the known Universe. They used technology far beyond what many would even consider possible. He was created for one reason: to fight against the Connexxion in a vicious war that had raged for decades. Deag23, nearing defeat, need...