Cars are still parked outside. If the rapture had happened, why was it unrecognizable? Why was the sky blue? Why did no one tell me? Do these things not announce themselves?

All that I touch seems to break in my hands, then it just bursts into flames.

I latch onto any media with good story and characters like a leech, spewing out stories when the flame of... Yeah, I write MLP stories, don't judge me.

Stories about ponies are stories about people.

Digging it deeper. Always deeper.

I am not contained between my hat and my boots.

Somedays, I sit, looking at the stars. I muse and wonder. I meditate and reflect. And I find the miracle in a new day of life. Especially since I swallowed so much glass the day before.

space is a waste

I am a self proclaimed horror and dark fantasy fic writer. You want darkness, death, and despair? You've come to the right place. Also an eternal Twilight Sparkle and avid Lovecraft fan.

Klaatu barada nikto =^.^=

Struggling to edit and write, and starting to read.