On the subject of myself I do not think it wise to speak. All affictions with myself are tainted and swayed, twisted in a knot of disgust. What I view is vulgar, what I hear is horrific, and what I feel is a shallow pool of cowardice. The lowest of a species that is so corrupt it is ignorant of it's folly. The pen flows from my dreams and the characters are my only crutch. One which only a creature so vile as I can cling to...