Where's the whismy,where's the life,where's the vibrancy,where are the colours??
I feel as though we're all or more precisely I'm stuck, there's sure some fun but no true ,not enough colours,sure a splitter here and there but the canvas remains black and white
There exist other worlds than this
Worlds above and below and between
With our eyes closed we see them
With our ears shut we hear them
With our feet still we walk them
With our hands still we feel them
There exist other worlds than this
Worlds above and below and between
Where we live with our hearts full
Or torn apart
Or beating louder than the crashing waves
Where we live with our strangeness
And our flaws
And our idle fascinations
Where we wander to and fro
With passion
With certainty
With something else entirely
There exist other worlds than this
And the reason that we’re here
Is to explore over there
Is to explore in that place
Is to live in it for a time
And to return with our hands empty
But our hearts ever changed
There exist other worlds than this.
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Been working on
too many projects
But they're all important to me, I'm also a big fan of employing little rituals in my day to make things make more sense.
So I wrote a litany that I can repeat, or think about, or muse on. I write to solve most of my problems.
It's about imagination, and adventure, and travel, and probably a bunch of other things too.
If you read all of this, I lov u, gold star, smooch-a-ur little head, giva-a-u scritches, et cetera...
A characterizing theme for Charr, the gnoll alchemist, in Bleak Dawn/Grey Sun
How strange. “Chosen” feels like rather a hefty title for one so...timid. Exiled by his father, confused and afraid. The responsibility of generations upon the back of somebody who can barely carry himself, metaphorically speaking. It must be quite the burden, to be so heavily wrapped in fate.
At least we know he’s not evil.
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Cover image courtesy of Ben Mack and Pexels.com
DAW: Cakewalk
My Website: https://emmettkanemusic.carrd.co/