It seemed as if the day was no more. As if the moments were torn from a book so gently,so elegantly,it resembled a dream which stopped and ended suddenly. In front of me sit two small statues. One is of a lion,reared back as if he were to strike,his mane glorified by the tide; The other is of a parasite,traveling from host to host threw morning,noon and from coast to coast. I sit and roast on these images as I stand at the entrance to my next begining,a giant cobblestone walk way with stain glass window fragments playing tricks on my optical sensorys. The culmination of the years previous had just ended,so then I ask what now? How does it start? Im afraid I never considered most of what I did sins...though threw reflection...I lost such good friends through death or absolute hatred...emotions are not to be played with...even when fucking around with your own. Oh God,I was born to roam.I was born to love! I was born to be the antehisis of a good hearted christian with no outward moral structure...I am kinder for a fire storm