All this and a bag of chips.

[zachariah]

Nothing profound from me. I do a job a monkey can do. That same monkey could probably do my hobbies better than I. I'm telling you, this is one talented monkey. 0_o

Yeah, I'm disillusioned about myself. Aren't we all?

Gah, I'm sorry. I don't mean to be so cynical. I just don't think I will ever figure out how to become more than the sum of my being. How can I be so involved in fantasy, yet still cling so hard to mundane things? I am no longer an idealist, though not by choice. In any given everyday situation, my choices are all based on what is the best solution for me, preferably in tangible form. This makes me, by definition, practical. I lament my loss, but not too much, because deep sorrow is impractical. *smirks*

Smoke and Mirrors,
Fools and Killers,
We all are Sinners,
Thus said God.


Where were we, when we were not?
A challenge called, as most thought it ought.
The human pride, so carefully taught,
Will by and by break any drought.


This is why I draw instead of write poetry; though I suck at both, I suck less at sketching. Poetry is wordplay, arranged to evoke emotion. I can appreciate such arrangements, but find it difficult to create my own, possibly because I suppress most of my own emotions. Seriously! I'm a pacifist, which means I suppress anger. I'm shy, so I suppress passion. I'm practical, therefore I suppress sorrow. I'm male, so I suppress fear. What am I, some kind of machine? That's impossible; for one thing, it totally doesn't compute! *cough*

I love food. It's amazing I stay thin.