April 12, 1999

There are great things in store here. You must simply know where to find them. I am alive and grinning and peaceful. And yet, death lurks on the tip of my tongue. Rage and resentment seep from my breath.

I hate this place I've built, and love everything I've built within it. And the circles are changing within my screaming touch.

I will be the one who flies. You'll see. Turn around and fall from my glance, you are much too welcome here to stay.

Behind it. Above it. Inside it.

Everything dies. And we all continue laughing at the premise.