Gifts

Buddha was walking into the city market one day and near the city entrance an old bitter man was sitting on a box glaring at Buddha, who carried a bright smile on his face. At the sight of him this old man started cursing Buddha up and down, left right and center, telling him how pretentious he was, how much better he thought he was and how he did nothing worthy of the air he breathed in this world. But Buddha simply smiled and kept on walking to the market to get what he needed. The Next day Buddha returned to the market and once again that old man was there, this time his cursing intensified, screaming and yelling at Buddha as he walked by, cursing his mother, cursing his father and everyone else in his life.

This went on for the rest of the week and finally as the Buddha was leaving the market the man came up to him, as his curiosity had simply gotten the best of him. “Buddha, every day you come here smiling and every day I curse your name, I curse your family and everything you believe in” the old man says ” but every day you enter this city with a smile knowing that I await you with my harsh tongue, and everyday you leave through the same entrance with that same smile. I know by speaking to you now that you are not deaf, why do you keep on smiling while I do nothing but scream the worst things I can think of to your face?”

Buddha, with the same smile still on his face looks at the old man and asks “If I were to bring you a gift tomorrow morning all wrapped up in a beautiful box would you accept it?” to which the old man replies “Absolutely not, I would take nothing from the likes of you!”. “Ah ha” the Buddha replies “Well if I were to offer you this gift and you were to refuse then who would this gift belong to?”. “It would still belong to you of course” answers the old man. “And so the same goes with your anger, when I choose not to accept your gift of anger , does it not then remain your own?”

(Source Unknown)

…aaaaaaaaaaaand it’s back!

Hey look, Meilin took the lock down on her blog!

I know, scary isn’t it?

I even put the theme back to the old theme because I liked this one better and, one day, one day soon, I’d like to learn to make stuff actually look nice and not like crap. For now, this works.

So, how have I been?
Miserable. Thanks for asking.
Why?
I don’t know, chemical 6y in my brain decided to fuck off in my pancreas which made chemical 43q run around in my left pinkie toe and caused an influx of chemical depression. Or something like that.

In short, I’m utterly miserable, but that also means my muse decided to throw the rock she’s been hiding under to the side and be all, SO I HEAR YOU CRY YOURSELF TO SLEEP, SO LETS DO LESS SLEEPING AND MORE WRITING.

Yeah.

I’m gonna try to focus on the whole ‘story’ thing as best I can, I mean, surely there will be game nonsense and the occasional shit post, but, I’m gonna try real hard to focus on the whole, and, wait for it…

Kidnapped
by
a
Story

part of the blog.

In other words, I’m going to have textual mind vomit in an effort to stop this horrible, horrible depressive funk I’m wallowing in.

Story Snip: Laurel Meets a Melyion

Behind her, the people fled, Laurel was rooted to her spot as the man’s voice became frightened, then gurgled for Balor, and finally, when the beast pulled him from his massive fangs, he was human no more, but bloodied flesh with no more voice to scream – that is when Laurel finally ran. The beast tore at the walls and tried to reach for her, but the roof began to collapse onto it as it tore down the walls holding the structure steady. She burst into the open air, standing in stunned silence as around her, she watched men fighting, women directing people to flee, and the growling behind her growing ever louder.