"Oh! See who we have here."
He tried not to look at the owner of the voice. He preferred to keep telling his instinct that the voice was but some optical illusion. He took more delight in saying to his rage they what it had heard was but some figment of imagination and was far from the reality. He didn't know what to believe. He wanted to believe but didn't know how to go about it. He hoped that he wouldn't have the course to go through the courses he had been ignoring so far. He hoped that he wouldn't have to resort to violence. He would try as much as possible to tell himself lies for as long as possible till he would be unable to bear it anymore. He knew of course that would get to a point where he wouldn't be able to bear it anymore. It did seem to him as though it had gotten to that verge. He wasn't so sure though. He couldn't be sure though. He was hoping that he would be able to figure
"You should be more conscious sometimes." He knew that he heard churning chuckles over that. He wanted to believe that he did have some hearing impairment. He didn't know if he was sane to be wishing himself such thing. What was the so called Poseidon feeling like? What was the stance he was assuming? What was the plague he did think that he could cast. He wasn't so sure. He didn't want to be. He was only hoping that his thought was accurate. He was hoping that exactly what he did have in mind was what was actually happening. He didn't know why he was feeling that. He didn't know why he was wanting to feel like that. He didn't know why he should take delight in that. He didn't know why he should have his rage tucked. He knew that his instinct might be feeding him biles. He didn't know what to believe. He did prefer to tell himself a lanky lie than to believe that Poseidon was making fun of him. He d
"Woah..." He tried as much as possible to hold unto the tail. That was all that he was left with. That was all that he could do. That was all that he could make odd of. His hands would slip most times. His hands would betray him most times. His motive was beginning to be severed. He didn't know what he would do. He didn't know what he would put up with. He didn't know what time would serve to him. He couldn't be so sure. He was trying to hold unto it. He was trying to make sense of it. He was trying to be sane. He knew that he would never give up. Twas never in his nature to give up. He would do all things but that. He did know that he would fight and fight till he had his way. He was able to hold unto the scales of the serpent. The serpent was more than all he had expected. He had been trying to ignore it. He did ignore again. He was all thinking of what he would do and how he would go about
"I should be in a trance." He could say that over and over again. He should of course be in a trance. If he wasn't in a trance, then he should probably be walking through the aisle of Fantasy. He didn't know what to process. He didn't know what to believe. He was trying as much as possible for his instinct to register the new deal. He didn't know why twas reluctant. He didn't know why twas being indifferent. He didn't know why twas being offensive. He was trying as much as possible not to take offence. He didn't want to. There was no reason he should. He didn't know if that was true. He was only trying to ignore the feeling. He was only trying to figure out what was odd. He was only trying to reshape the foils and be able to stand on the feet of his rage. He didn't know what to feel anymore. He was only a sojourner in the land of his thoughts. He would take his time to be there for a while. He
"You can learn how to be mute. Learn it. Learn it. Do learn it. Twould help you. Learn how to lie. Figure the odds out. Make you..." He cut the word shortly as he tried as much and as hard as possible to hold unto the neck of the lad. That was the least he could. He could do more than that. He could bite more than that. He could fill the vacuum. He could feel the whole deal. He wanted her to make the foils known. He wanted his rage to push the odds. He was counting the odds. He was making his motive known. He knew that he would have his way. He knew that he would make time what he did want. He knew that he would fry the pain. He was enjoying himself. He didn't know how long he did have to achieve his aim. He did know that he would keep biding his time. He did know that he would fleshen the foils. He was just being patient for the meantime. He would make it known. He would make his plans known.
"What the fuck am I supposed to do?" He knew that he was supposed to be raged. He was of course supposed to be enraged. He didn't know why he was feeling quite indifferently. He didn't know how to fill up that vacuum. He was hoping that things would come out clearly. He was hoping that he would be able to have his way like he used to. He was hoping that he would be able to stand a chance. He didn't know what did go wrong. He was more than swelling. He was raging. He knew that sooner or later he would burst and there would be no one to contain. He wouldn't even allow himself to be contained. He knew what he would do and had been preparing himself for it. That was the best thing he could ever had thought of. He couldn't had thought of anything better. He did wish that he had thought of that. He didn't know what feeling was real anymore. Everything was assorted and he couldn't simply differentiat
"Let me have my way. Ah! My way!" He wasn't so sure who that was directed to. He wasn't trying to make it known to his rage. There was nothing that would be done even if twere made known to his rage. He was just trying to figure quite the numbers of things. That was all that could do. He had gotten on it. He didn't know what he did mean by that thought. He didn't know who he had addressed it to. He did know that he hadn't addressed it to some god. He knew that his thoughts had not really been bridled. He had been making them take several routes. He couldn't be sure if he would be a made to regret that. He did know that nobody did try threatened him. He would always find his way and make his rage known. That was all that he would do. He knew what he was capable of doing. He knew what his rage had thought him. He didn't need anyone to remind him of who he was. He was more than enough for himself. He k
"My dear son" He wanted to puke on that. He didn't know what to say about it. He wanted to be dismissive of course. He wanted to be raged. He did know that twould get to that. He was only sieving his options. He was trying to make his rage known. He wouldn't hide it of course. Why would he hide it. He didn't care what would happen. All he was thinking of was pretending not to had heard that. He knew that time would test it. He wouldn't be patient enough to figure out that. He didn't know how to be patient. Being patient was never his thing. He kept grumbling. His heart was heaving a salient sigh. If he could have his way, he didn't mind if he did rip his heart open. He didn't care. He didn't even know what to care anymore. He wasn't human anymore. He knew that and he would stick to it. He hated being made to feel too special. He has no idea what he did like. He didn't care what
"I'm sure you do have more things to say. Speak on. Speak and speak. Let me hear you speak. Speak up. Make your voice loud. Make it clear. Let all who do live around hear the call you prune. Cry and say it. Let us all know of what stuff you are made. Let them hear you and come tumbling here. Let them feel the pain you have been savoring. Let's see who would be there for you. Let's see who would stand for you. Let's see who would understand your stance and fiddle with the pain. Speak up and make the rudeness known." He kept the pressure on him. His arms were doing the best arts he had ever thought of. He couldn't had thought of anything better. He did wish that he would be able to make meaning of it. He would be able to make rage of it. He wanted to achieve everything on him at that moment. He wouldn't be cool enough to allow his rage to cool out. He knew that he wasn't that patient. He