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The Pen is Mightier than the Sword

Stale

Initiate
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About Stale

  • Birthday 03/11/1974

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  • Location
    London, UK
  • Interests
    Evil things!

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  1. In a brief moment of pure chaos I found my way back to an old haunt. This event was initiated by the good old Hyuri, nudged on its way by Ishmael and inspired along by Post Forensic Cleaning Service (PFCS). This old haunt I have not actually set a single foot in now for, can you believe it, five years! And the profile never lies, oh no, it does not. People learn to speak, run and in many cases masturbate within that time. Five years is an awful long time. That said, to my disapointment there was no indication of this fantastic feat in my profile, which claims I am an initiate!. An inititate is to my mind very much like a peon. A peon is an unskilled labourer or farm worker of Latin America or the southwest United States. I have to protest. This is simply not true. It was Hyuri that initiated this process, if anyone should be deemed a peon, it ought to be him. I do however digress. I just came here to say that I have utilised my special talent and the world has been saved. Yup, I repeat; The danger is over, salvation has come. For all you hopefulls, you may now close the previous topic, there is no longer an imminent need. And of course, I come in peace, offering many naps and cookies both rotten and stale.
  2. A pile of blank paper and a new filter tip pen, that really turns me on Or, a new software! Oh, and Saturday morning, most inspiring thing in life. Most of all, Saturday morning w/ an ice cold can of Red Bull, some bbq flavoured Walkers Crisp, followed by opening a pack of cigarettes, smoking number 20 and 19 with a big, fresh mug of coffee and hours and hours of absolutely no worry to do with as I like spare time ahead of me - very inspiring! Still, I just really need something I wish to achieve, emotinally, motivationally and functionally... If I just have some sort of need, or urge, rather than staring at the blank paper after drinking too much coffee, then I'm there... Praise, or critisism... that sometimes fires me up as well... Yah, its a little lame, but I'm a little shallow, all I really need is a reason, that suits me and I can achieve without too much hassle I know I have some more "real" influences, I just cannot put a finger on who exactly, its just a thing, something I know is there... I mean, like you all here, I love Tolkien etc, but most of the time, my influences are more obscure to me at least (prolly transparent to anyone but myself) but I definately think my mood influences me more than anything... So I always try and get myself into the mood - and Walkers Crisp (has to be bbq flavour, as it has this punch in the morning, waking up the whole spectrum of senses) and ice cold Red Bull, a few cigarettes (brand not so important, no menthol mind you) and a mug of coffee (again, brand not so important as long as its not poluted with sugar or milk) that's my real inspiration! So, I would have to go with something chemical, that REALLY wakes me up! Okie, I just got home from town, been drinking, perhaps a little... am I answering the question... I have no clue!
  3. Well, every time I wander into the halls of the pen I feel I should write something, and as usual, when you feel like creating something, there is nothing there... This is rough and raw, unpolished and without plan Hunger So empty inside, like a book without words I hunger for substance, crave for something I search within and search without I hunt the night, the moon, the stars So my aim is random, my eyes deceive What seem so clear, is not yet there What plans I have, I gladly share What my pen erase, before its there, its here So it is hollow I see, that I behold When I touch my head, wipe cold sweat When I scream out loud, synaptic pain When the day wakes up, with rain, soft rain So I close my eyes, it will not be dear Its all but nothing, rules of chaos Its what I can do, forget and regret Then I see, what was hidden, hidden to me And with bursting lungs, sound explodes For all to see, I am what I told For a moment of joy, I take a breath For then it is over... so hollow, empty inside
  4. *The old evil assassin enters the hall through one of the windows, quickly hiding in the shadows. For a long time he observes the people, listens, then he moves and... stumbles.... kabooof!* Uh, heh... need a lil practice it seems. So anyways, the eternal initiate it still here, count me in
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