These two threads are merged now. Check the recent threads to see whether your subject isn't already touched upon next time please.
Indeed they are. I didn't even see the "Wheel-Chair" thing to be honest. :p
Take it from the top now.
Now that you mention it. XD That's not where the names are from though. Catherine Wheel Judas Chair See for yourself what that might mean. ;)
Yeah, it shows.
Can't say I really knew you but I always dislike seeing someone leave. Hope you have a smooth sailing in the rest of your young life and maybe I'll still see you around now and then.
Well this sucks because I honestly think you're one of the most mature members here. I understand your reasoning though. Good luck trying to graduate and make the most of life!
- Generic dual impressions question. - What's your dream job? - Can you sew? - Would you rather have a private yacht or a private jet? - How long are your fingernails right now?
Production and consumption, creation and destruction are two essential processes who strangely antagonize eachother. They are lovers who are driven apart by both the House of Logic as well as the House of Intuition. But lovers they are. Their forbidden passion gropes for the back door and employs scouting blown kisses so that they can fondle eachother furtively, mischievously even. They will never however attempt even a single taste. They know all too well that they mustn't. One could strive for net profit. Emptiness crumbling beneath the bell glass of life. Eros who slays his deformed equivalent Thanatos, as if they were a game of chess with only two pawns, and this over and over again. But even a bucket that is replenished droplet by droplet can overflow. Therefore it is commendable to introduce into society those who take more than they give. This idea is as irrefutable as it is dangerous. This idea gives everyone a wildcard to transgress. This idea is to be realized by Judas Chair, a completely abnormal youth who you wouldn't want to run into in your own mental darkness, let alone in his. Judas Chair too, traverses chambers and opens all the necessary locks in order to do so. His set of keys rattles like the shackles of a sinner who is chained before he even committed his crime. Each step is a new door, a new room, a higher level of inertia. With each second that passes there are so much fewer possibilities to retrace your steps. It is a danger that roams Judas' daydreams and nests in his nightly blankets too. Despite his loud tinkling entries, Judas is only seldom heard coming because he virtually whirls through chambers, through lives. He forges and breaks ties at a speed that is invisible to the naked eye. No encounter with Judas is ever the same. It's exactly because of this that nobody seems to realise that, on a different scale, Judas is simply standing still. In all relevant versions of reality, Judas is not a storm on himself but rather a prisoner in its eye. He detained himself to it as part of an irreversible decision. A barrier of howling, whistling, twirling insecurity. Day after day, step after step it slaps him across the ears: "I have written the lexicon that I will carry for the rest of my life. Like everyone else I have defined compassion and cruelty in ways that only I can understand. I have seen everyone's reflection in my head if not in fact. Okay...Now what?" Creation and destruction. Judas has held their hands throughout their journey across several altars, some true, others false. Little do they know however that they are closer to eachother, closer to death by togetherness than ever before.
Welcome back. Good to hear from you again.
========================= Session I Texture ========================= "Oh let me have it, let me grab your soul away You know, it's me Cathy" Kate Bush (Wuthering Heights) "Catherine." Where is she? "Catherine?" She'll be difficult to spot amidst this whiteness. "Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaatheriiiiiiiiiiiiiiiine." A naked, milky, empty chamber and soft parachute get slid in front of her as if the whole package were tasteless breakfast. She gobbles it up reluctantly, vomits it back out, and wades her feet through her puke. One more rude awakening for Catherine Wheel. All that is Catherine is white. The possession of every colour, yet the dominance of none. Whiteness is a system with an infinite supply of potential, much like herself. Her entire environment suffers from albinism. Everything is white or pale and shines its flashes of pain with every form of enlightenment. For let it be known to all; Catherine detests moments of clarity. It doesn't work. The plate is still as full as it was five minutes ago and as full as it will be in ten more. This is Catherine; emotionally deaf-mute. No intake, no output. The circle is a dot. All these flavours, fragrances, colours and shapes. They may just as well have never been there. She can't eat. It's been too long since she last opened her mouth to speak. One room traversed, another is waiting. One sticks to the functions those rooms are built for, no more and no less, otherwise you are a freak. For now, Catherine doesn't feel like participating in all that, though she'd much less remain where she stands. It doesn't matter much anyway: she lost her set of keys and is imprisoned in the frame between waking up and living her life. She ardently gropes her grey matter, which is merely a diorama of her living space with all the necessary and unnecessary frills. Quirk by quirk she underlines both her doubt and her resolve during her search. Eventually, after a tremendous effort of grasping and damaging both hemispheres (again), she finds that which ought to grant her safe passage. A key which grants access to the ballroom known as the outside world. Catherine freezes at the door that should not even exist. What is she supposed to do there? What does she have to accomplish? She has never known; Catherine is a freak.
It never hurt to ask. I don't know how much time Cariad has on her hands but there's only one way to find out.
I plan on making it diverse. London is the only certitude so far, although I wanna see Brighton too. I'll see what I can do to put Middlesbrough...
Meganium Flygon Dewgong Arcanine Magneton Scyther
I already looked in the mirror today, thank you.
For some reason I assumed you knew. XD What's Middlesbrough like? Is it a big and lively city as per England's standards?
I'll consider it. I haven't planned anything yet so I'm open to suggestion. There's no real trick to it. I just played a lot of video games when...
Nope, always have been Belgian. I like Britain though. I'll probably go to London in March or something, and I'm planning a great tour around...
Hello, I'm Belgian. I live in a country that lives off football. (We suck at it though.)
All right. Good luck getting things organized! And thanks a lot for reading. It's really appreciated.
