maanantai 23. marraskuuta 2015

Once upon a time, on a distant land, on a distant galaxy...

dibbiluU Uubinskoffind was an ordinary, 12 year old (by our standards of time) lad.

They always are, aren`t they?

A magenta skinned humanoid with three legs, two arms, who was a farmer like rest of his family...his father had died a long time ago, when he had been a soldier in the army of Gruonkild. A corageous soldier, he was said to have had been.

They always are, aren`t they.

But, what dibbiluU did not know, was that his father had been something more. He also didn`t know that he was going to find out who his father had been, in a few minutes.

The weather was nice. Very nice. The 40 moons could be seen excellently in the green colored evening sky. The red sun was ever so slowly descending to northeast ( Though, the race of gU never used that word. They always said something ambigous like "over there", "that way" or "past the hill like a cgR jump".). Air smelled like maneuver, hay (which smells like silicon in this world), and very rich with oxygen. About fife times richer than on Earth.    

A strange looking old (she had four legs), hunchbacked woman walked towards their house, the soap bubble mountains (Soap bubbles being metaphorical. Actually, the mountains consisted of iron-clay.) looking gigantrous (700 miles) in the distance. dip had stood next to his mother who silently said (in an alien language that is translated to english of Earth):

"Oh dear."

"What is it mumma?"

"Go inside, now. Take your siblings with you."

"Why, supper ready?"




dib skittled to the house, and took his 67 siblings to his arms. This was easy, given that all of them were still eggs the size of rice grains.

His mother shouted to the woman.

"Get away from here, ye filthy ancient croak! your company is not required here!!"

"Why must all the fantasy characters speak that way?" The old woman mumbled, while slowly
walking towards the woman."Long time no see huliO! You know why I`m here, do you not?"

"Turn back, go back to your land! This instant! Or by my god, you shall face the cold grasp of death very soon!"
"Death has a very warm grasp, actually." Said the old one, while still limping onwards.

"Stop thy limping and thy nonsense that you speak." Said the mother of dib, whose name was huliO.

The ancient, mysterious woman did not stop.

huliO very quickly drew her magical weapon that resembles a crossbow of Earthly design. She aimed at the old woman. Without mercy or hesitation, she shot. 

For a 0, 80 second the energy bolt wissed trough the air that surrounded it, nearing the old woman.
It exploded, and was gone. But no damage had been done to the older woman.

"Like I wouldn`t have a magic shield, you silly broad!" Yelled the woman who could be called...well, let`s call her Junio.

The three legged, slightly plumb (180 lbs, 5, 47 feet long) woman whose name had been huliO for the last 190 years (by Earths standards), goed to one of the hay stacks, and pulled a string. 


A canonball of this worlds equilant to pure hell fire was shot to direction of old Junio, and it too, exploded.

It cracked Junios shield a bit, and also managed to sting her. She was starting to get pissed.

"Uuhtriolottinus!" She spelled.

huliO was captivated inside an unbrekable hexagon prison, that let air and light inside.

 "B for effort." Said Junio.

"Go drikle yourself." Said huliO.

"Be very thankful that I have a moral conscience that keeps me from burning you alive." Said Junio, while still limpin to the house.

"Do NOT go inside you-"

Suddenly, her words couldn`t be heard anymore.

dib was scared (His siblings didn`t know how to feel, yet.). He had had to use the bathroom (hole in the ground, that had a crap eater at its bottom) that`s how scared he was. He wouldn`t be letting the dangerous woman in! No wa-

Then the dangerous woman was inside the land floor hut, thats walls and roof were made of worm eaten wood placks.


"Nah. If I would, I wouldn`t be able to tell you about your father."


"You see, your father was a courageous soldier, as you know. But he was also more. He happened to be the gretest soldier in the galaxy. Able to confront armies that had tens of thousands of warriors, by himself. able to hold closed doors closed for hours, no matter how much they were pounded. Able to survive the pain created by hunreds od torturers. Yet, he was always kind. Even to his enemies. Even the most horrible ones. It was said that he was given his strenght by gods. That`s true. But he had a weakness. If he would surrender willingly, he could be killed. On 56 separate times, he was given a choice: Surrender, or a city will be destroyed. 55 times, he could find a solution that would let him keep his life, and keep the city dwellers alive, too. In the 56. time...yeah, well. Anyways, since you were conceited 5 days before his death, you have his powers. They should surface in about...two weeks. Or sooner." Told Junio.

Our kid protagonist had been awestruck by the words he had been told. Not making a sound.

"That cannot be true."

Junio made a sound. It was this: "Sigh." 

Junio took a piece of crimson glass, plicked it, and it flashed.

"Very we...we-well then. It IS true." Stammered dib.

"Okay. Now, preparations must be made, farewells be said, and leavings be done. We`ll, leave as soon as possible, by the way." Said Junio, using words that sounded alien to dub.

"I don`t wanna."

"..." Said Junio.

"..." Said Junio, again.

"..." Once more.

"What the hell?" She said.

"I`m scared, and I don`t wanna leave my family, or my home town, or the boy I`m attracted to, or the useless alchemist school for really poor kids or...oror..."

"I understand your feelings...but there`s millions of lifes at know, I could control your mind, but then you wouldn`t be as naturally a skilled a fighter as you are. So...come on."

"What did you do to my mumma? I cannot hear her voice..."

"I rendered her speechless for the time being. She`s completely fine. A ok. Now, let`s conversate about..."

"Conversate*?" He asked. Askingly.

*Maybe this race doesn`t use the word, or his vocabulary wasn`t awfully big.

"Speak. Discuss. Talk about your future as a celebrated fighter for the good of gUkind and a few other races benefit." She said, hoping that she made it clear to him.

"Nothing to talk about. Ain`t going."

"Yeah, you are."

"Ye speak lies."

"No I does not." Said Junio.

"Yes, you do."

"NO, I, DON`T." Said, Junio, raising her voice."

"Don`t raise your voice in my presence!!!!!" He shouted, and hit the poor old woman, because he has anger management issues.

Junios shield cracked to 10089 pieces. Her torso to fife. Her soul remained intact, but it escaped from her body, and goed to the body of a newly born space monkey, 600000 light years away from the location of our story.

There was sand everywhere. Sand that use to be inside Junio.

dib stood there, trembling. His mind started to change. Partly because of this dramatic experience. Partly because of the Deus ex machina-effect. 

huliO opened the door, and hugged her child. She saw the sand on the floor. Her eyes widened.

"I am not cleaning that."

"Very well mumma." He said, not at all shocked, took the broom that looked like a pool table, and started sweeping.

"Have you decided to stay love? Please say that you have."

"No mumma. I did, at first. But killing seems to be too much fun." He said, smiling joyously.

"Sigh. Very well. Leave soon. Kill all the evil ones. Bring alot of riches, and maybe a pretty boy who can marry you." 

"I have someone here, already."

"Oh, how lovely."

And so it happened, that dibbiluU Uubinskoffind trekked to the lands of blood. he traveled on horses, mules, dragons, small rabbits and magic carpets. He found out that his world was not only not rectagular, but that it didn`t have a shape at all. He fought against 5000000 adversaries and killed all of them with a wicked smile on his face.  He laid hunreds of men, and sometimes women. He fought for ten years. Led armies for nine. Led 67000 of his own soldiers, and civilians, to their deaths, just because he wanted quick solutions. He burned dozens of villages because of various reasons. He beheaded the one who had warred against his people for 23 years. He took his throne. He took the throne of the ruler of his own people, by force. He warred against other nations. He made made his mother proud, especially because she got a city of her own, where she was worshipped. He had 10 million killed. Had his own, rebellious siblings killed. For 30 years his reign goed on, until the goddesses and gods who had unitentionally given him his powers, grew bored of the epic that they had enjoyed to watch for 53 years. When they grew bored of it, they sent dibbiluU the Terriffic to hell, where he was the lowliest of beings, suffering the most horrible punishments that anyone can imagine. He stayed there for 10000 times 1000000000 years (by our definition of time) before finally reincarnating as Batman.      


This story is licensed under creative commons ATTRIBUTION. 
Which means, that you can use the story in any way (for example, make it a part of your story continuum), distribute it in any way and if you really want, make money out of it. As long as you:

AttributionYou must give appropriate credit, provide a link to the license, and indicate if changes were made. You may do so in any reasonable manner, but not in any way that suggests the licensor endorses you or your use.

maanantai 8. syyskuuta 2014

Not dead, nor forgotten, but left behind.

This is my first blog.

It`s a place where I could publish stuff.

But...I`ve had this feeling for a while...that I should create a new blog.

But...I don`t want to, nor do I have the superhuman ability to keep updating two blogs frequently enough.

Hell, not ONE blog. As can clearly be seen. Which is why it may take months or years before I create a new one.


Thank you Again, another blog about comics. And stories.

You are a blog that has very little things about comics. But you are also a place where I had the freedom to NOT write about comics. Where  I wouldn`t have to post any comics, though it was my intention at first. You are also a place where I could try and fail, regarding publishing blog-posts. You aren`t very dynamic, but I like you anyway, thanks to your ruggid, amateurish charm.

I shall return to you every once in a while. But I will most likely, never again, publish something in you (sounds kinda kinky...).

Be at ease. Rest. Be drowned to the (so far) endless current of blogs of all kinds.

Like you have done all your life.

lauantai 6. syyskuuta 2014

The saturational opiate cemetaries drag me towards the plus 1 point in the listening marathon that Dalekly tries my patience in the rations.

Jouking and the bouking low down my bow. 

You can eat music. swallow and bite chunks of it and vibrates when it gets down. Gets dooooooooooown. If some of it goes t`wards your lungs, you`ll cough it up and music ejects out of your mouth makes a boom and if it`s real loud you`ll get damages to yor troat, teeth, vocal chords. Top of your mouth, yo tongue. To the toothdecay trolls. Dos the same when it slides trough your foodtube organ.

How many will be printed? This shall be I hope.

You may not believe this, but the papers were paperthin.

The clock is way too many and if there were any stars they`re prolly gone I missed `em again and I should eat `cause you know I hunger and all that stuff.

Yourusely youth youhs up the lightwawes that light up the sight ups. Hey! Careful there. The rugalimaritines tired of being sorcerer food minutes ago. For them, a new age begun. Hunreds of seconds ago. I`ll take seconds. If it means food which is in my case, your brain. In a gaseous form. Hahahahahahahah. Laugh it up.
Become a miser. A lonely lonesome happy fellow. Fellowship of the ding. Ding-a-ling don Juarezo. Stepping the sipping stoves. I try and don`t, to get somethin` done. Something noble. Great. Artistic. Worthwhile. And alot of it in a short period of time, because my life might just run out afore I have the chance to achieve it all. One of them, love.

Your whole life can change to a cluster because you experience that awesome, comely sensationalistic happening. Especially with the unrequited kind.

Fatique rears its beautious, scabby rear. And your life changes in to a clusterduck. Especially in you imagination. Only there, if you play it smart. But I can`t. I feel so insecure, stupid, awful and wrong.

This story is licensed under creative commons ATTRIBUTION. 

Which means, that you can use the story in any way (for example, make it a part of your story continuum), distribute it in any way and if you really want, make money out of it. As long as you:

AttributionYou must give appropriate credit, provide a link to the license, and indicate if changes were made. You may do so in any reasonable manner, but not in any way that suggests the licensor endorses you or your use.

torstai 4. syyskuuta 2014

Okay, here`s my definitive answer.

I love stories about DCs and MARVELs characters. But I`d want the companies to suddenly face bankcrupty. I wouldn`t want the vacuum to be filled.

I`d want readers to notice all the other great stuff that is published. I`d want `em to read back issues.

I`d want all the characters and stories to go to their creators, or maybe to the public domain.

Then all the fantastic stories that haven`t been in print for decades, they could be reprinted. Better yet, scanned and put to the internet. Hell, do both!

Then you could see all the obscure (I hope) and popular characters in indies and whatnots! In webcomics, and their makers could make legal money out of them! Or somthing. No, better give the rights of the characters to the creators. Of course, that makes up new cnas of worms, but it has advantages.

Then, that doesn`t sound right...

This is what happens to me every time. I think about what I think of the companies, and then my answers just get messy and I don`t know what to think. Because:

All that matters to me, is that the stories are there. I`d want a 400 page comic novel about Freedom beast. I`d want both companies to be more like Indie publishers (as small, too), but with that already established character catalogue they have.

I care about individual stories. About comics as an artform. The publishing stracegy with all its kinks is a helluva big piece of art, too, but it`s not as appealing to me. It appeals to you, to millions. Even though everyone of them feels it`s flawed. They keep complaing about it.

(For examp, if a hero who doesn`t murder, would kill someone. Which everybody knows is out of character. But it`s not. If a character did it, it`s not out of character. It feels wrong to many, but it`s not. They don`t like that story, and feel that it`s a black mark in the characters history. They wouldn`t want it to exist because they love the character with all their heart, and they want the history of it to be "perfect". But`s an unavoidable evil. A shared characters history can never be perfect. Especially if someone tries to change it. You can`t make an omelette etc.) 

But why? If one wants something new, one shouldn`t look at old characters.
(They`ll just do what they always have, in the end. The stories are the things that keep adding something new to the mythos`s. Except when they don`t.)

There`s new ones all the time. But they don`t have a large audience like Daredevil.
But that`s not the problem we fans have. It`s the fact that the characters keep on existing.
What I want, is for every character in the MARVEL- and DC-worlds to have their definitive story. Be it in some other characters story, or their own. A story that is about 400-1000 pages or something.

Then what?

The character dies. All the loose ends cut. Or the hero quits being one, and has a happy rest of life. Or all the plotlines are resolved, new ones aren`t made up and the hero takes it easy for a moment. Or does a crazy flip in the air. And that`s the last that will be seen of that protagonists, until they have lapsed in to public domain.

That`s what I want. But I don`t need to have it come trough. I can focus on those new stories and back issues of the older characters.

Sure, I still have problems with the companies and unfinished stories and such, and it feels overtly complicated, but I hope I`ll get over that. Hope I`ll focus my energy to create what I`d want the two companies shared universes to be like. But in a smaller scale. More auteuristic. More diverse than all-supercomics.  

maanantai 1. syyskuuta 2014

”Dude, I totally need to sleep...”

7 o` clock. It was time to wake up, and her alarm clock made sure of it. It ringed, and the cacophonic music it made, forced her eye lids to open. Barely. She slammed the clock to quiet it down. She closed her eyes again. She layed on her bed for a few minutes, knew that she had to rise from her comfy, yet extremely unhygienic sheets, soon. She forgot to.

After 4 minutes, the clock rang again. She slammed it again.

This was repeated for 5 times until she rose extremely slowly, while at the same time cursing the necessary snooze alarm.

She dragged her (currently) barely alive, yellow Homo Sapiens Sapiens-like body to the bathroom and emptied six of her nine bladders.

She rinced her face with icy water to wake up.

Then she went to the kitchen. Made a smoothy of her toe nails, cat hair, moldy yogurt, bones and fresh Passion fruit (she put that incredient in to the blender by accident). She drank it, was repulsed by the fruits taste but swallowed it nonetheless.

She expressed her disgust. ”Ghaahg!” Then she rinced her mouth with water, and drank tainted ape blood to get rid of the awful taste.

She brushed her teeth.

She took of her turquoise night gown. She doesn`t need a bra, because she has extremely small breasts, so she didn`t put them on. Then she put on her panties, stockings, socks, jeans, contact lenses, long sleeved woolen shirt, woolen trousers, warm gloves and full body armor with a hood that disguises her face completely (even she has no idea why she wears it). Then her jacket and boots. She stepped outside of her okay flat.

It was a cold (-5), grey day. It was raining very wet snow. She cursed again, for 11 whole minutes. She hates the soggy kind of snow.

She walked on and after 10 minutes she arrived to the city center, where a few silent beings (four humanoids, three unicorns and seven internet trolls) were minding their own business. A familiar (to her) figure was sitting in the bench next to the water fountain that portrayed Wally West, the Third Flash (Who had once saved the world of this story from certain doom. But you haven`t read that story. I`m pretty sure nobody has.).

The figure said: ”Hello to you Royranain. Good mo-”

The robot saw the humanoids facial expression with it`s night vision. It wasn`t a delighted expression. Hence the change in his dialogue.

”I mean, adjectiveless morning.”

Royranain slunk to the bench, and uttered to her robotic friend.

”Dude, I totally need to sleep...”

”Those bags beneath your eyes do imply that you do.”

”Quit being a smartass.”

”You know I can`t, due to my programming.” The robot said with no emotion in its voice at all. Which doesn`t mean that it would be impossible, to notice the sarcastic tone that it placed atop its words.

”Shuddup.” She said, and placed a tired tone atop of her words.”You know, last night, I bet I didn`t even get an hour of...YAAAAAAWN...sleep...”

”Do you want the traditional pick-me-up?”Asked Serial number 45686805345.


The robot pointed it`s hand to Royranains direction.


”Tha-tha-that-thanks!” Stuttered Roy.

”You`re welcome carbon based lifeform.”

Three minutes passed.

”It`s wearing off...” Roy muttered.

”Too bad.” Said Serial number.

She didn`t reply

There started to be more silent beings walking around the square (surrounded by wooden cottages that looked exactly the same).

”I saw a dream last night.” Said the robot.

”Whut was it about this time...?” She said, her eyes closed.

”Everyone on this square except for you shall die after a few minutes.”

”Okay then. It was nice knowing you.”She said.

”I`m serious.”

”Be whoever you like to be.”

For a minute, it was quiet.

”Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah...I`m so qrhhnhdfbjvnmffjkfjfn tired!”

”I wonder if I have feelings...I sometimes feel that I do. But, if I do have them, I should be panicking right now. Shocked at the very least. But...maybe I don`t feel those emotions.” The robot pondered.

”Yeah...Maybe...” She said, not really caring what the hell the metallic lifeform was saying.

She forced herself to rise up, scretched and uttered:

”Well, of to work, to the old pickle jar factory.”

”I doubt it.”

Roy was going to throw a smart quip, when suddenly...

Was it really- was. A sand storm was coming closer and closer to the village.

”SANDSTORM!!!!”She (and someone else, in the distance) yelled.

Everyone rushed inside the cottages.

”Wont help.” Said 45686805345.

”Will you cut that crap out! Let`s go inside!”

The storm was 15 miles away.

”It would help, if that would be a sandstorm. But it`s actually an army constisting of 99,999,999,999,999,999 flying titanium Minotaurus`s. We`re so Goddamn doomed.”

Roy listened to the robot, which stood up and took it`s seven laser guns to its seven hands, and said, almost half asleep.


Then she said.

”Please dude...don`t say that. If you say that, I...I need to get you some help...because you really believe that the storm there, consists of mythical creatures...”

”What I described to you isn`t all that impossible in a universe where anything is possible.”

The bot handed Roy a portable telescope.

”Why should I look at a mere sand storm?” She asked, trying to hide the fact that she was afraid to look at this particular mere sandstorm, that might not be a mere sandstorm at all.

The droid gazed a long, irritated look at her.

Roy un-portabled the telescope, and looked trough the lens.

She saw various Flying Minotaurus`s purely consisting of titanium. They were 10 miles away.


”Such multitasking. You staggered and dropped the telescope, while screaming that particular word.”

”For chrissakes shut up and hand me a rifle!!!”

”I`m using all of my arms.” Robot held guns in all its hands.

Rory grabbed a rifle from the robots back.

She breathed heavily.

She was more scared than she had ever been before. She felt awkward to ask it, but she knew she had to.

”Why...why are we holding these?”

”We`ll try to destroy as many of those as possible. The less there are, the less lifes they can destroy. Of course, a few isn`t much, but it`s better than nothing.”

”A-(snif)aha...” She said, sobbing, tears flowing down her cheeks. Mucus down her nose.

”Goodbye Roy. I enjoyed your refreshingly nettling persona.”


The robot thought: Lack of sleep makes her a very emotional person, apparently.

I have to save her. After all, she is my only friend who is still alive. I`d like to keep her that way.

But how?

The heroic robot remembered something it hadn`t thought about in years. According to the myths, Flying titanium Minotaurus`s had a code of honor, to never kill anyone who was sleeping. The bot, unfortunately, cannot sleep, or even load it`s batteries in sleep like manner. But...then again, it didn`t really care. What it cared about was, as noted previously, saving Roys life.

The robot decided to do so by playing a fitting, peaceful song via its iPod.

While listening to it, Roy started to fall asleep.
”Huh...?” She muttered askingly.
After listening to it for 26 seconds, she was snoring.
The horrifying horde zoomed towards the silently standing robot. The army was a hunred meters away. It aimed the guns at them, and started firing. Dozens of anthropomorphic creatures soon noticed that they had large holes in them. After these realisations, they kicked the buckets.
In less than half a minute, they reached the outer cottages that surrounded the square. In a minute, the cottages were toothpicks and sawdust. The lone protagonist made of steel-copper uttered its last words, while still firing the guns.
”Holy motherfu-”
Then it was gone.
The army goed on, destroying the square (including the water fountain). Then the village (14 persons ( Roy not included )were sleeping, and they were all spared, even if it was very difficult to do). Then the other village that was close to it. Then the city that was close to it. They didn`t know why they did that, but they just did.
They almost completely ignored (they noticed her, then ignored her) Roys silent figure. And even if the decibels and tremors around her were magnificent, she hadn`t awoken. That tired she was.
14 hours passed. She woke up. Opened her eyes. Layed there. The time was 20 o` clock now. She looked around her. These are the words she uttered.
”Every single thing...”
”Serial number 45686805345...He saved me...”
After 20 minutes, she spoke again.
”Why do I feel so guilty?”
”Must be that survivors quilt I read about...”
”My home is gone...”
There she layed, on the ground, in her heavy costume. Thinking what to do next. Then she started to cry again. She cried for fife minutes. Then she walked away from the spot. Still crying. 

She joined the 13 other survivors. They banded together, and went on their way to find food, shelter, liquids, more people and some kind of sense in the world. They found very little of all of that, and died after 10 years, in a world almost completely ravaged by those bloody Minotaurus dudes and dames.
When the eternal sleep started to come for Roy, she hoped it would mean precisely that. Eternal sleep.

This was actually our metalloid protagonists first appearance. But there was this chick who wanted more of him, and I wanted to write more of him. What happened in the between the previous and this chapter, I have no idea (except that, Serial nro. had an amnesia, it seems). Because I`ve lost interest. It feels troubling to me, how I keep quitting stories I write before I`ve even really started. If my fates be merciful, I`ll get over those problems ASAP. By that, I mean 1-3 years. Tops.
Bye, Serial, Ekobo, Royranain, Minotaurs, the inconveniently noticeable criminal, the sidecharacters who got little attention, the caterpillar and girlfriend, the monster who killed them, the liquorice lady, the Quarli man...Maybe I`ll use a few of you again, eventually. If not, have fun. Enjoy your lifes. Do something with them. Inspire others. Become energy that enables harmonious action. By which I mean ACTION. 

This story is licensed under creative commons ATTRIBUTION. 

Which means, that you can use the story in any way (for example, make it a part of your story continuum), distribute it in any way and if you really want, make money out of it. As long as you:

AttributionYou must give appropriate credit, provide a link to the license, and indicate if changes were made. You may do so in any reasonable manner, but not in any way that suggests the licensor endorses you or your use.

keskiviikko 27. elokuuta 2014

So, I signed this petition a while back.

Needs more signees. So do these.

This, too. Stands for cancelling a tv-show tha glamorizes and shows the killing os sharks. SHARKS, man! Those awesome creatures who are poignantly important to the ecosystem (being some of the top predators of smaller fish, obviously)! It directly affects humans and millions of other species.

Worldwide, sharks kill LESS than 6-20 people a year (depending on the year). You can even swim around `em and keep your life, if you don`t panic (in which case, there`s always protective cages) or start acting like a douche! Which you prolly knew already.

So, basically, sharks are hippies towards people.  Who knows, maybe they smoke weed and use waterpipe and colorful hemp shirts. Plus, I wouldn`t surprised if someone would find a lavalamp inside ones stomach.


Anyway, this is serious. Sharkhunters kill millions of these guys a year, and this is one way to fight back. I want you to sign this petition. If you do, you`ll get the blessing of Ikatere (Hawaian god, father of all sea cretures) on you.

tiistai 26. elokuuta 2014

(Has profanity.) It`s prolly fairly difficult for them to get it.

But I`d want to kick all of their fucked up memories to abyss. They`d still be fairly the same, I hope. Maybe I`d do it anyway, I hope. I was so frustrated a few minutes ago so listened to Heavy metal (liked this the best: and screamed words that goed about like this: FUCK YOU ALL THE RAPISTS AND MURDERERS AND ASSHOLES AND LEAVE MY FRIENDS ALONE!!!!! LEAVE THEM ALONE!!! WHY DID YOU HAVE TO DO ALL THOSE THINGS GO FUCK YOURSELFS COULDN`T YOU JUST HAVE HAD BEEN HAPPY?! I`LL KILL YOU EVERYONE!!!!! I yelled with a loud raspy voice and also scremed highpitchedly. I don`t wanna kill everyone, but I`d just want everyone to be happy and why can`t we defeat our programming and just be happy and when I say stuff like this, why must so many dismiss my words? Or am I exaggerating? I don`t remember reactions people have when I say these things. Or do I? Do I say these things to `em? I should. Anyway, they`re pretty neutral when I say things that are pretty close to these words. But I want them to say: I want that too, let`s build the utopia and achieve everything that is good and have adventures. I want to create a world like that, and though even THAT is difficult, I can do so with stories I make.

I want you guys to be happy. Want me to be happy. All the insecurities and bad deeds done towards you and those you`ve done to others...let`s eraticate them. Or maybe see the good in them and stay as those wonderful ourselves we have become du to them and good things. You creatures are so pretty and interesting in every way and I want to like you all I want to transfer myself in to some kind of external cosmic state of biotangents. Even if you would like things I consider petty and useless (to some extent, getting drunk, certain thoughts you make, not because you`ve created them, but `cause they ain`t new, and I know I`m being a selfimposed piece of shit and please someone tell me that and mean it, I want to get better). I want you to do the same. Can`t you bloody hell just fucking do it?! Just do it! I`m not begging you to, I WANT YOU TO DO IT.