Pagan Poetry

I'm leaving for Frankfurt tonight...
Paranoia dictates that I should now be screaming hysterically and running around in circles babbling about killer pneumonia, but then again I never was very prone to paranoia. It's quite freaky really... sounds like it came right out of Stephen King's The Stand. You know, at this rate the US won't even need to bother with nuclear bombs and what-not...just send someone over to Iraq to sneeze at them.

mood

Translation:
Nemo nisi mors.

the subject

utopist. dreamer. cynic. poet. a contradiction. eccentric. cartesian. a starlight in the gloom.

The patient, born in 1984, suffers from a history of idealism of unknown onset and duration.

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fanfic

:: Destiny Trilogy Part 1: The War
:: Destiny Trilogy Part 2: The Children of Lughnasadh
:: The Gates Just Opened