so he has entered the world of wrath. I can only hope it is a kinder world than the one he has already encountered. the mental balance of this one is delicate. like so many dreamers he drifts quickly from reality into his own fantasy world. an escape it may be deemed from the harsh cruelty of life. but he is different from the others here. or so it seems. for he does not accept a life of evil, hardening his heart against weakness. all have downfalls, learn it now, and you will be better of in the long run. he did not battle, nor did he kill. his time was spent not in devious thought, but in comtemplation. a philospher, perhaps he was. or maybe he was just a fool. only time will tell. had life treated him kindly, nay, it was as bitchy to him as allthe rest. he just saw it in a different light. he was not evil for evil's sake. merely suseptable to greed, and the other deadly sins. but in a world in which evil is coveted, he was thrown out. he sheltered himself from the truth, finding in his own mind a better world. that is not the kind of thinking this society wants. indeed, it is the opposite. so deem him a worthless fool, for you could very well be right. this one has yet to lose his naïveté, and innocence. look upon this as a weakness you may. or perhaps see him a different, see him as not conforming to the sterotypical mold of this day and age. all think of themselves as individuals, but are you really. can every bitchy mare call herself unique, if so many other possess this same persona. can these war machines, once called stallions, believe themselves to be special. when other have the same lust for blood. maybe you are different, or maybe this one. this quiet dreamer. a softy it would seem for the beauty in life, and unable to accept the ugliness. so you should you look upon him as unusual, it would not be completly irrational. what purpose could he serve you ask? fighting was not something he wanted, nor death, or deceit, or anything of the sort. so, that question could remain unanswered. unless, in the rare occasion, you needed something more than the usual planning of wars, and such, you might turn to him. so calm, almost serene. a brooding steed, lacking not in intelligence. never quick to judge, nor hasty in anything. a lover of life, not just his own, but all who grace this planet. so have you posed a final question. if you have it might be the question of why? why had he come here? here where he may be so easily taken advantage of, and just as easily thrown out. the answer, though I cannot reach into the depth of his mind to find the many complex circumstances that may have led him here, would be that like all creatures born to this planet he needed acceptance. he needed to find his own self, and yet the love and compainionship of others of the equus kind was still sought. we all need others, or we shall hide within ourselves, and within ourselves we shall die. so here he is. take him, this young colt, unwise in the ways of the world. take him and mold him as you would all the rest. make him just another robot, who shall take orders from you. keep his mind tethered within the box. or maybe he is strong, built of an invisible steel. maybe his free spirit can not be earthbound, and his thoughts will forever go against the grain. maybe he will fight the rest of the world. remember now, appearances can be decieving.

:: motion picture presents ::

chocolate 'n tar fox makes his way steadily upon a three beat ballet. one, two, three. one, two, three. watch that rhythm. fluid motion and grace apparent throughout the tango. liquid ooids, inked the color of milk chocolate, look about the world with a warmth not usually seen in these lands. gaze takes in the details of a world more peaceful than reality. own mind twisting the visions into a softer verison. like the fariytales you read at night. we all know it never ends happily ever after, right? but youth can make you feel so righteous, and that the world really can be a better place. who are we to squish these dillusions. oh, right, that's what we're here for. oppose them and make them grow. or in doing so do we kill their spirits, and their individuality? I myself do not know. still the danse carries on. as it always will, one generation to the next. looking toawrd the futures, carrying the hopes and dreams of many on their gangly shoulders. so the world has always been, will it ever change?

:: surround sound ::

do not speak unless you can improve upon the silence