Of life and loss and sorrow. Of a place with no memory or morrow. Whispered of dust and lace. And kissed my broken face. And brought me to the floor. And I cried out to. As I could bear no more. As I walk a way. My mind trails my shadow.

I, like many across the world am a practicing Bushido. I know that there are others in this world because it makes more sence than me being the only person in the world that does so. At any rate, as I am living my life backwards in bushido fashion, I know what I already posted so there is no sence in me telling you what this is about. The desert, high desert that is. Like I am going to tell you. Mexico, the trip is planned, phase 1A. Another day, another, well.

Deviant since May 6, 2009.

Can a classic 8-bit game capture a sense of horror? We think so. Flash and Flash compatible tablets. Part I in early 2012.