While someone is still scratching the walls of my brain and making noises in the numerous little rooms in there, the world is still turning around in a way that I am starting to understand. And while I am still trying to find my way out of the tunnels in my brain, I cannot help but feel hopeful. Hopeful that there is a little light at the end of it all, but it is, nevertheless, existent. Character defines your ability to get up from the ground, style is the way you do it, intellect is your mental capacity to know that you have fallen and temperament defines how you would fall.
I was never too keen on being part of scenes. But when people turn into silhouettes, I guess it becomes hard to control your deeds. All action is concentrated exactly where something ends and the next one begins, the best feeling is felt skin on skin.