Does the way something is done even matter anymore? Are we all so focused on results that the dirty details are so distasteful that we leave it to others?
The current momentum in modern politics does support this sad trend. If you can temporarily forget "your guy" is in charge, does it bode well for democracy when decisions that affect us all are decided by Executive fiat? The U.S. Presidency has become Imperial in nature. Congress is only consulted when it's politically
Originally Posted by Akoya
To share. I wish to teach. I wish my characters stumble and break to give the reader courage not to.
I wish to show that although the world is rough and cruel; beauty, light, and glory will always find a way through.
To help a generation realize there is something bigger in this world than their phone or music. There are things more passionate than any one person, things worth being passionate about and for.
I want to help a world realize there is something bigger, reasons
I have recently been experiencing symptoms of schizophrenia, including voices and hallucinations of people, as well as paranoia.
It is interesting how much one's own experience influences his/her writing. Many writers appear to have something tragic that happened at some point in their lives. It seems to encourage them to write. So, next time you go through something horrible, just realize that, with the experience, you will grow into a better person than you were before.
The early hours of the morning hung under Williams eyes as he stared pensively through the windows of the cabin. His ears were pricked to a sound that seemed to emanate from beyond the snow sprawled pines and craggy outcroppings of the Notch. The indiscernible note teetered on the very precipice of his hearing, dancing there; deriding him. An anxious moment passed through him like the icy wind tearing through the mountains, as if a recollection that eluded his conscious mind
Episode 65 of The Dark InSpectre is now online, in which our hero asks a colleague some polite questions. Then he stops being polite.
Hereís an excerpt:
The yellow bolt of psychic energy shot straight at me but I swatted it aside with my shields, then formed a spike of my own brain power and drove it into Darsonís head, twisting. He screamed, muscles spasming, and I let it dissipate just before he passed out.
He sat there panting, his eyes wild. His shields were