A very simple story...

He sits alone in the darkness. As always. As ever. Once...Before a thousand sunrises...Být chycen Andel stood as a king stands among his minions. Before En Sabah Nur. Before the dark one called Bastion felled him...Imprisoned him. For sunset upon sunset--piled high, one ontop the other--the former king has set his blind eyes...His stone hands...To a singular task...To fending off madness. But these last days--the burden of solitude is broken. These days Být chycen Andel has...Company. Být chycen Andel is aghast. For has he been exiled for so long...That the very face of humanity changed? There is no answer forthcoming? Again--as with every time before it--Být chycen Andel is left with questions. Was he such a horrible king, that he should suffer so...For so long? Or was his only transgression that he dared oppose En Saban Nur? Why has Být chycen Andel's vision been replaced with images...images of a world that cannot be? En Saban Nur is a cruel captor indeed. For the only way for Být chycen Andel to free himself of his visions...Is to record them...To etch them in stone. Or has Být chycen Andel simply--finally--gone mad?

When last he walked the earth above men was neither fish or fowl nor rock nor flame. Man was simply man. But this angel before him bespeaks another age of humanity. Much like the image of men of entire cities falling from the sky. Of spirits plucked from the ether to the now. Impossibilities. Atrocities. Blasphemies. "Tell me." Beseeches Být chycen Andel of the angel-who-would-be-human-- "Tell me why you are here. Answer for me the thousand thousand mysteries which plague me through the eternal night. "Answer me! Lest I tear the answers from your very mind." No I have opposed the will of the dark one once, I will not make that err so again. Být chycen Andel is gone, I am all that is left...

My Weakness

sorry i am weak, deal with it....

I love you. And not, not in a friendly way, although I think we're great friends. And not in a misplaced affection, puppy-dog way, although I'm sure that's what you'll call it. I love you. Very, very simple, very truly. You are the epitome of everything I have ever looked for in another human being. And I know that you think of me as just a friend, and crossing that line is the furthest thing from an option you would ever consider. But I had to say it. I just, I can't take this anymore. I can't stand next to you without wanting to hold you. I can't, I can't look into your eyes without feeling that, that longing you only read about in trashy romance novels. I can't talk to you without wanting to express my love for everything you are. And I know this will probably queer our friendship - no pun intended - but I had to say it, because I've never felt this way before, and I don't care. I like who I am because of it. And if bringing this to light means we can't hang out anymore, then that hurts me. But God, I just, I couldn't allow another day to go by without just getting it out there, regardless of the outcome, which by the look on your face is to be the inevitable shoot-down. And, you know, I'll accept that. But I know... I know that some part of you is hesitating for a moment, and if there is a moment of hesitation, then that means you feel something too. All I ask, please, is that you just, you just not dismiss that - and try to dwell in it for just ten seconds. Dammit women, there isn't another soul on this fucking planet who has ever made me half the person I am when I'm with you, and I would risk this friendship for the chance to take it to the next plateau. Because it is there between you and me. You can't deny that. Even if, you know, even if we never talk again after tonight, please know that I'm forever changed because of who you are and what you've meant to me, which - while I do appreciate it - I'd never need a sappy blog, or some masterfull painting to remind me of.