Rix Nap Ropper Dir

In the language of my fathers I will greet you.

Hello.

The amount of patience it takes to move forward had often baffled me. But I guess it shouldn't come as a surprise because procrastination is not the only attribute that I aspire to perfect. That being the case, I have moved forward of my own volition at times. Like the time I was at the grocery store, and I moved forward. Though you might attribute that to the empty space in front of me, the angry customers behind me, and the cashier impatiently waiting for my purchase. You might, but I won't.

If things tend to work out for you, I would suggest that you go with it. There is a lot to be said about things like that.

But I guess if there is a point appointed to this pitifully poor collection of quaintly preposterous paragraphs, it purports to be this. And I quote. "Hello." I'm watching my Ps and Qs roll off the quickly typing tips of my fingers like there was no qqqqqq tomorrow.

In the language of my mothers I will bid you farewell.

Farewell.

Infinite Times Eating Snow Peas Times Two

If there is anything less enjoyable than running down a jagged rocky hill filled with spiky bushes while it is raining lemon juice and lava at the same time, I don't think that I want to know. It's not that I don't like knowledge, it's just that I don't think it will be much use. Plus, I'm really just afraid.

But on the other hand, I have an interesting bit of information (and by information you of course know that I mean trivia). Did you know that fire ants are extremely protective of their queens. If they feel the colony is in danger, they will move the queen down one of their tunnels to a new location. This is part of the reason that Fire ants are so hard to kill.

Also, a colony can have more than one queen.

And lemon juice never rains from the sky.

Leaves shaking at the breeze

I live in a fantasy. I am constantly reminded of locations and events that live only in my mind. I have lived in these worlds which have as much reality to me, almost, as the one in which I live and breath. I step between them as if jumping from one room to the next.

One minute I am in a 30's era mystery inspired by Cthulu events, and the next I am in a 20's era noir type adventure making deliveries as a pilot who lives on an island chain hundreds of miles from any mainland. Gunships and airborne cities circle over my head.

I sup with the characters and listen to their stories. I realize that in some way they are all me. I feel their anguish as the make the wrong choices and hurt the ones they would save. I struggle with them as they try to right their own wrongs and the wrongs of the world. I empathize as they hide from the hard choices in front of them.

I have very little imagination. These characters and places are gifts to me. I love that I have met them.