Right out of the gate, I want to say, "No."
No, I am not AGAINST THE CONCEPT of altering my brain chemistry.
I dunno how you could be, to be honest. Seems fuckin' stupid. I could understand not wanting to alter your own brain chemistry, fine. You don't wanna, that's fine. Really. But if I want to do it, and I'm not going to fuck with you, where's the problem? In fact, you can even leave.
Jul 24, 2007
Jul 20, 2007
This girl I fancy...
So there's this girl I fancy. I blame her for the poetry nobody wanted to see. Nobody saw it, but I digress.
They try to make me go to rehab, and I won't go, no, no.
I went to a show with her last night. Caroline Smith was the performer. Caroline Smith is not the girl I fancy. Caroline Smith has a myspace, and her music is pretty fucking good. I may just want to like it because this girl I fancy likes it. I'll probably never know. I'd have to read the lyrics.
Enough of this. Let's just say, there's this girl I fancy, and leave it at that. I went bowling with her tonight. I understand, I said I was going to leave it, and I am.
---
Matthew Culler had always been a mama's boy. From a very young age, he was sensitive and kind. Empathetic would be the word. A better, two-word phrase would be: Reluctantly Empathetic. To be truthful, he hated his disposition. Always knowing how the other guy feels isn't a great way to think about things.
Until the world beat it out of him, he was a crybaby. His mother told him it was "okay to cry." And it was, if you were a woman. In Nevar, reasons to cry were plentiful, even if you weren't accustomed to feeling everyone else's pain.
His mother died when he was thirteen. Crying was no longer an option. He had to make his own way.
In Nevar, young travelers were unheard of for two main reasons. Purebred human children themselves were rare. Four of every Five newborns was born with extra legs , giant heads, or the like. Muties, they called them. Mutie babies almost always kill the mother during birth.
The other reason amounted to one word with a complicated explanation: Beastmen.
Even when humans bred true, without mutie offspring killing the species over millennia, Beastmen were a constant threat. Beastmen just were. They live in the wilderness, and they hate humans. Beastmen raids were constant, and traveling between towns was dangerous.
Somehow, the young Matt survived for five years on the road. Drifting from town to town. He would hold up somewhere until the novelty of his story would wear thin on a town's patience. Then be gone before sunup. Nobody ever traveled at night, they didn't even think of it. Most Beastmen see best at night.
Matt learned to use a pistol at 14, from a man named Eddie, the self-appointed sheriff of a flyspeck town. Matt watched Eddie die less than a year after meeting him. Eddie once told Matt that anyone who wouldn't die screaming doesn't deserve to live. Eddie deserved to live, but he died screaming.
Most Beastmen aren't above eating humans. Howlers prefer human flesh to other food. Howler Beastmen look like an obscene mix of human and wild dog. Many look like humans covered in fur, with doglike heads. The breed of dog can differ, with Hyenas, Wolves, Coyotes, and Dingos being most common. Eddie was eaten alive. Alive and conscious.
When the Howlers ambushed them, Eddie handed Matt his pistols.
Eddie said, "Run."
Matt ran, and never forgave himself for it. How he survived, he didn't know for a long time.
He'd never know how he came to find himself, just six years later, the ad-hoc sheriff of a flyspeck town. Caring for a sprig of twelve-year-old boy. This was just before he realized that his "empathy" was merely undeveloped telepathy. His untrained ability to touch minds had caused him so much grief. But that's another story entirely.
They try to make me go to rehab, and I won't go, no, no.
I went to a show with her last night. Caroline Smith was the performer. Caroline Smith is not the girl I fancy. Caroline Smith has a myspace, and her music is pretty fucking good. I may just want to like it because this girl I fancy likes it. I'll probably never know. I'd have to read the lyrics.
Enough of this. Let's just say, there's this girl I fancy, and leave it at that. I went bowling with her tonight. I understand, I said I was going to leave it, and I am.
---
Matthew Culler had always been a mama's boy. From a very young age, he was sensitive and kind. Empathetic would be the word. A better, two-word phrase would be: Reluctantly Empathetic. To be truthful, he hated his disposition. Always knowing how the other guy feels isn't a great way to think about things.
Until the world beat it out of him, he was a crybaby. His mother told him it was "okay to cry." And it was, if you were a woman. In Nevar, reasons to cry were plentiful, even if you weren't accustomed to feeling everyone else's pain.
His mother died when he was thirteen. Crying was no longer an option. He had to make his own way.
In Nevar, young travelers were unheard of for two main reasons. Purebred human children themselves were rare. Four of every Five newborns was born with extra legs , giant heads, or the like. Muties, they called them. Mutie babies almost always kill the mother during birth.
The other reason amounted to one word with a complicated explanation: Beastmen.
Even when humans bred true, without mutie offspring killing the species over millennia, Beastmen were a constant threat. Beastmen just were. They live in the wilderness, and they hate humans. Beastmen raids were constant, and traveling between towns was dangerous.
Somehow, the young Matt survived for five years on the road. Drifting from town to town. He would hold up somewhere until the novelty of his story would wear thin on a town's patience. Then be gone before sunup. Nobody ever traveled at night, they didn't even think of it. Most Beastmen see best at night.
Matt learned to use a pistol at 14, from a man named Eddie, the self-appointed sheriff of a flyspeck town. Matt watched Eddie die less than a year after meeting him. Eddie once told Matt that anyone who wouldn't die screaming doesn't deserve to live. Eddie deserved to live, but he died screaming.
Most Beastmen aren't above eating humans. Howlers prefer human flesh to other food. Howler Beastmen look like an obscene mix of human and wild dog. Many look like humans covered in fur, with doglike heads. The breed of dog can differ, with Hyenas, Wolves, Coyotes, and Dingos being most common. Eddie was eaten alive. Alive and conscious.
When the Howlers ambushed them, Eddie handed Matt his pistols.
Eddie said, "Run."
Matt ran, and never forgave himself for it. How he survived, he didn't know for a long time.
He'd never know how he came to find himself, just six years later, the ad-hoc sheriff of a flyspeck town. Caring for a sprig of twelve-year-old boy. This was just before he realized that his "empathy" was merely undeveloped telepathy. His untrained ability to touch minds had caused him so much grief. But that's another story entirely.
Jul 13, 2007
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