<b>Blocked like a mighty dam.
Like a dried riverbed it is
Empty as a hollow tree.
As absent as a mind in a computer
Gone like the besets of old
Vanishing like magicians smoke
Dead as the thoughts of zombies
Rotten like a piece of guta cheese
Not there like a strong wind at sea
Dull as a battered old sword.
That is my mind is.</b>
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The cronicl
In the start of time there was but one people
the excisters.
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I reject your reality and insert my own.
Quest: I need a pickfork..Progress: umm not so good.