stood with hands behind, refusing to strike back.. a pacifist? Or was it just how they felt about me? watched with pain in eyes, as my hands struck blows.. Somehow, it wasn't satisfying, and verbal taunts did not do anything. I grabbed at the hands, pulled them around, played with the willpower used to supress the will to fight... finally, the natural inclinations faded, hands came up to my throat, and began to squeeze...

Was just thinking/dreaming of the mallability of the human spirit.. So often, people use a sly doubletalk to comment on humans by appearing to comment on fantasy creatures..

I sometimes forget which things I know I am supposed to know, and which I've acquired through confidence or other means. Secrets are one of the few kinds of poison that we can be proud to drink, an invisible badge.. Secrets, and unexpected eyes.. cousins..

It is a time to replant my roots, to lift and till..

Hypnos calls me again..