Hell…do you consider it? Does it exist? It can, a house of hell with a little girl devil, she sits in my memories and cries stone tears for her good ways. I remember…hell makes you remember. Other lives, times…I’ve seen pieces of my soul and they are blackened by time and others standing around a fire, all pouring gasoline onto the fire they called life. Did I ever live a life where I didn’t destroy, was there a single soul that held this soul that did not stare into the abyss and decide “fuck it that looks great”. I ponder this and dream of things that make me question the path I walk. The Dreaming holds wonders, dark and light, apples and oranges…some succulent and sweet, while others make you puke blood on a Sidhe. Who knew? Paths…which path would you choose?