IMAGINE A RIVER OF MOLTEN IRON. TIME IS LIFE THAT RIVER, FLOWING BY. IMAGINE DRINKING FROM THAT RIVER. IT BURNS YOUR THROAT, BUT YOU DRINK IN THE POWER OF TIME. BUT AS YOU USE IT, IT KILLS YOU. SUCH IS TIME. BE UNBOUND BY THE POWER OF THE FLOW.
All hail the whispering lord, whose secrets burn like cold venom into the minds of the ignorant.
all hail the screaming baron whose wails torture those who do not speak.
all hail the madness that sings in the hearts of dead gods.
all hail the whispers.
all hail the silence of the mind.
Ya know, i don’t know if I really exist. I don’t know if you exist either. all I know is that I think that I am making cohesive stories using symbols that I think correspond to sounds that, strung together, make language.I also know that I want unknown people to stare at the symbols, decide they mean something, and say something about said symbols. so I don’t care, love is dead, please buy my books.