ladyhomegrown

The only thing anyone knows about him is that he's one of them. Of that blood. Of course there are rumors, but they've been exaggerated over the years. Grown too fanciful. There's always someone to dismiss or deny it. It makes me wonder what really lay behind all these stories and allegations.

The tree branches above them barely held leaves, and the few that remained were glimmering golden in the morning sun. The rest of the birches were seemingly lifeless as the approaching winter was making itself felt, even in the lower regions of Skyrim. Faint traces of snow were already abundant around them, but it wasn't fully covering the ground yet. The stone road ahead of them was yet clear to see and the cold air tolerable enough for their kind. The Khajiits didn't belong in Skyrim, with its cold weather and unwelcoming people. The feline race wasn't appreciated anywhere outside their own land really, due to their unfortunate rumor of be

GOD: Next, please. MAN: Yes, hello again. GOD: I'm sorry, my memory fails me. Which one are you? MAN: Well, I was Martin Fry. GOD: I'm sorry, those records are terminated. What's your number? MAN: Eleven thirty-one. GOD: No, no, not your queue number. Your executive number, the eight-digits. MAN: You expect me to remember that? GOD: Well, it is within the seven plus-minus two limit, which you should achieve if you've reached up to level one. Or, are you the reincarnation? MAN: Yeah, that's right. That's what I wanted to discuss with you. GOD: Did you miss your stop? MAN: No. GOD: I only sent you off a few hours ago.

They talk amongst themselves. They seem almost comfortable in their own skin - In suits and skirts - looking forward to tropical vacations and office affairs. Lovers need to make a living I suppose. I can almost see their bank accounts written on their face. She smiles: she has a few dollars. He frowns: he has not a dime. They rush: they want a raise. Walking quickly deserves a promotion these days. Security is needed in these parts. On this floor. We need to protect what we hold so very dear: Cubicles and computer screens with useful information promoting equality to the equally discriminated against designated groups and sexes. Yes.......w

These street lights won't last forever. This reflection won't last forever. These trees won't last forever. This window won't last forever. These words won't last. This sound won't last. Language won't last. I won't. you won't. live. .

When an Angel dies, the Banshee cries an evil laugh It's cackling lingering on through the night Deriving us from our hearts Tearing us down into nothing When the Banshee cries, the Faries come out to play Laughing merrily at the Creatures' dismay They sing and dance, make love under the willows When the Faries fade.... So do we......