Xaious, Master of Time

Because I won't likely say it when I'm at your house Saturday, Happy Birthday. I hope y'all have a lot of food. Moof.

Obviously, you people don't see it the way I do. Aardvark's weekend did come sooner, but the same is true of his weekdays. We, on the other hand, get to sit back, while he is suffering through Monday. When it comes.

Yes, this would make a nice song. "Control for your team" is refering that Americans, your team, is working for the "god" America. In Stanza three, now that you mention it, yes, that is how i should have typed it, I acknowledge it should be bombs. good point for the American Bullets, except that other countries are likely to use American made bullets. And I have great doubts that America would want them to hit, say, when they're being used against us. And I wouldn't mind controlling aromatic shrubs, either.

*Jumps up and hugs Ayshela. Thanks. I needed that. *Walks of kicking the shins of every guy trying to hug him.

Welcome back, person I don't know, but who seems to be highly respected around here. here, have my respect too.

(This is a poem being rewritten by me from a song my friend wrote, but likely forgot, as I just located it today.) America's the disease, spread far and wide. Taking over with ease, over all human kind. We make brainless masses, Teach over kids in classes, America is the winning team. Spread the American dream. Kill in the name of your god. Control for your team, Because America is your god. Bullets flying overhead, Bomb destroy the innocent. People die, the dream is spread, Teach your enemies to repent. Spreading false freedom with an iron fist. We'll kill'em all, let them come, Because America's bullets never miss. Spread the American dream. Kill in the name of your god. Control for your team, Because America is your god. The bombs drop, The bullets fly. America stands above it all, a gun in hand. Spread our freedom to be opressed to every man and woman. We do not fear evil, Because we are evil ourselves. Now Raise your gun high, And Shoot for America. Spread the American dream. Kill in the name of your god. Control for your team, Because America is your god.

Depression. The pains of wanting when you cannot have. Having none to love, to love you.

Living. Hmmm.. Tough one. I think it would have to be Flea, the Man ffrom Chili peppers. I could learn a LOT from him. Dead. That ones a toss up between Jesus and Da Vinci. All of these being people I could learn a crapload from.

The master of time, and a wordmonger too, I can only say one thing. Cool.

Jelly Belly, Starburst, there are more. They're coated in sugar and kinda chewy. I can't eat just one. A five pound bag, I can eat, one day later no more. I always take them when I can, but naturally of course. And then I found something out. A coffee flavored one. This is beautiful to me. A coffee flavored Jelly Bean? Someone loves me.

Very much time he had spent on his deciding. More often than not, he used too much, and in the end had made one or more errors. This may or may not have been one of these errs. Servant to this man readied the un-fabled Utensil of Ink Flowing and an old dusty parchment, for to catalog the ramblings of his enforcer. Who thusly did speak. "Four-score, and seven hours ago, It came to my attention of the wasting away of my time. And it did seem that I should act more on those thoughts that are new, lest they become old, dusty, and ill-flavored. Yes, I am seeing now that it is this reason that I have erred, so i must make ammends (and think clearly, too.)." Xaious did awaken one morning. The night before, he had spent his time reading of his older works. "I wear it in public, in my home, in the presence of other consciousness. Late at night, it breaks out, a Mr. Hyde from this Jekyl. It hates imperfection, loves love, and hates to be straightly simple. The truth is out there, not really, but hidden deep inside." This would be on his mind for the day, and he recalled it's meaning. "I use a working persona when any person, them being awake, would be able to see myself. When the day waxes to the late night, i can remove that mask, and my true personality is shown. I have been cursed to be the perfectionist, and love all that is beautiful, which I deem, and will rarely say something straightforward. I confuse you with a lie, all the while I hide my true personality inside." Never before has this man sat and recalled the time, though he claims it as a servant. Ignoring the fact, he opened the drawers of his mind. "hmm. I think I'll use this one today." And he donned the pesona of his other days. As he removed himself from the room, he decided to head to the local tavern of his town. Between his room and the barren desert of his kitchen, he was stopped by the ghost of his long deceased felinial counterpart, Greebouy. "Feed me." At which point it made a valiant attempt to remove Xaious's right arm, but failed mightily, and existed no more. "That was unique. hmm. Noon thirty. I should eat something, but this home is barren of adibles. Mayhaps a friend will be with some food." And he walked out the front door. Down the street from his lowly House of No Food stood The Pen, a great might location in which a large number of intelligent beings rested and shared of their bounteous written works. This was his first stop of which he would make, before yet again pulling a shift of many hours with his best friend sleep. Upon entering The Pen, first he noticed of the little action, as only five Persons of Inteligence were there, he being one. So, having duely noted this, he pulled up chair in the area labelled "breakfast at noon", and began his "Letter of Applicarion". Midway through this action, the waiter brought forth a plate filled with Coffee Flavored JellyBeans, a favorite of Xaious. For another few hours, he wrote, and write he did, so much so that the waitress had to bring him a second plate of JellyBeans. Noting that the action in this location was little of power to this article of his attention, Master of Time did leave, only for more life to keep himself awake. Later on this lonely journey of his, he did remember another Great Place of Inteligence. Shortly thereafter, He did arrive at The public Forums of Starmen.Net to place input of his thoughts, arts, and whatnots. And when he did finish these actions, he said farewell to this realm of live consciousness, and went to bed. When he hit the bed, and was nearly passed out of this world, The Truth hit him. "???So I am asleep, eh?" And then did awaken from that long dream, banging his cranium on the bottom of his older sibling's bed. That which had been stated is now to be FINISH. PicouDJ2@aol.com Enjoy finding out what I have told the story of.

It is the one thing that everyone wants and needs, no matter how much they deny it. The only thing that can tear me up. And it does.

How does Nikkoli sound for a name? (Checks a page full of names I have lying around.) Azreal, Aron, Brett, ummm...Yeah.

I meant I am asleep until noon, and am on the computer from 10 pm until 2 am. I WiSH I knew how to do that, though. i wouldn't have to stay up until 2. or 3. or 4 or 5 on some nights. I liked yesterday. I got a Sobe, some oil paints, an airbrush, and an air compressor (for the airbrush). That's a lot of money I was saved. And now I can work on getting paid for doing what I want.

w00t! People notice! That is a First. But really, all I do is sleep till noon, internet from 10 to 2, sleep, video games. Go me.

*Click Clack* *Click Clack* *Click Clack* "Turn that thing..." *Click Clack* *Click Clack* "And Chief is jus..." *Click Clack* "Am I ranting again?" *Click Clack* *Click Clack* "Where is that coming from?" *Click Clack* "Must be my jaw..." *Click Clack* *Click Clack* *Click Clack* !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! "Go to SLEEP!" "Excuse me for ranting." *Click Clack* The end came.

That is right. if it were possible to leave and stay gone, I would have done it by now. but the Pen grabs a hold of your soul, it takes control, and in the end, Your stuck.

I am here because vincent Silver pestered me about it, so I originally came here to shut him up. But now I stay because i like it. I write because some of my feelings and thoughts cannot be expressed in my pictures, and they are more easily perceptable in writing than when put on paper as a picture. Here is an example that could have NEVER been drawn to show all of the feelings. 5-04-03 One day, on the natural plane of which humans originated, a man wondered. He did so while riding on his bike, as he was wont to do nightly for an hour in the least. Not being a person to care or think much on trivial things, being such as the ruler of a nation, or a person mysterious death on a faraway country, his thoughts centered more on himself, for in truth, what a person cares thew most for is most often himself. This is the nature of these weak creatures named humans. Being his nature, as one who is not viewed as a person is liked, he did think of that which was what he wanted. Some money in his pocket, a little food to snack on at his house, water, a friend rather near his location, it mattered to him alone. Two of his more common thoughts, truly, being those of other lives for him and one particular vision of beauty. in fact, he always, to himsaelf in the least, calls that one beautiful, as if it were the name of that one. He nearly curses himself for his fleshly weakness, but nevertheless, he doth endureth. Many jokes are made by he only half-hearted, because he lacks the love. Many are the people who have never and will never notice this. For those, he weals, and for them that notice, he tells all to, in time. But it is seldom that they notice, so he weeps all the more, weeps with no tears. the pains are an interesting joy to this one, who clenches his jaw for the new pain of it, this week old pain. Waiting, patience is his new friend, and his old enemy. When the thought is in him, it causes him almost physical pain, noticible to those who might look to see if it is there. In the end, it is forgotten on the winds, as is the flame to the ocean. Short is beautiful, one does say, so these many shortlived pains are deadly beautiful. But he hates them. When he says all he needs to say, he has lost all words to say, even thogh he does be a wordmonger, this fellow. He pleads to his friends through his friends with the visible crying girls, women, and they say little, other than dude. This only satisfies a small amount, so therefore, he makes more. And he wonders Peace out.

Pen. Because the colors work better for my writings and drawings than the drab gray of a pencil. And when pencil IS needed, I have a mechanical pencil, a.k.a. a leadpen. It's highly decorated, and really looks like a weapon (sadistic grin).

I was hoping this was a python reference, too, but c'est la vis. Well, my good friend, I give you my sympathies, my sorrow, and my understanding. I guess this added to your stress in our conversation the other night, I had no idea. on the bright side, I am glad to have not angered you and Kayla nearly as much as that guy. in my opinion, I think he should be castrated with a dull rusty butternife, along with the rest of that horible torture.... Peace out, brother.

I absolutely LOVED that hunting for mosquitoes skit. If mosquitos skins were really worth that much, I could finally have money. (I live in Louisiana) Also, you can't forget the Holy Grail "Brave Sir Robin Ran away, He bravely ran away away. When Danger reared it's ugly head, he bravely turned his tail and fled. The brave Sir Robin Turned about, and Gallantly he chickened out. Bravely getting to his feet, He beat a very brave retreat. Bravest of the Brave, Sir Robin!" ( I know it's not entirely correct, but oh well.)

Ah yes. Again, welcome back, but now, i must ask one thing. Howcome you didn't inform me of this place earlier than you did? I mean, with kenders and cat lovers, you didn't think of me sooner? Oh well, I'll return you your writer's black as soon as I find that kender. peace out.

Ah, my friend. Happiness is a great thing. But sadly, You hadn't shown much for the past few weeks. I will take it that you were angered with your "writer's black", as you put it, so do not anger at me. Welcome back.

Xaious=ZIE-yus.

Konnichiwa! Hola! Bon Jour! Hello! I am me, and no one else, here me talk when you ignore me, I stop at the time in which you pay such attention. My rants are with true meaning, and few there are who notice, if you can catch hold of one rant, bravo, and in the end, all is Hello.