Welcome to my Diary.

Welcome to my Diary.

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WpMetadataNoticeLast published Sun, Jan 12, 2025
As public as this can become, I fear the greater loss would be excluding the option to share, what I see missing, from this individualized experience that is my solemn existence. I love poetry but I lack the wherewithal to pursue it. I love poetry but I lack the technique of eloquently placing my experiences and emotions into verses and stanzas. I love poetry but I don't embody the kind of characteristics one would expect a poet to display. I fear if I don't start trying, simply trying to start writing, I will get to the end of my endeavor here with a lack of legacy. That is a fear that startles me away some nights, and keeps me from falling asleep some others. Ideas fester in my brain causing a chaos of stories and plots and inventions and romances and coming of ages and feuds and frictions and love and everything else. I just want to start where I have always intended to build. Off the shoulders of that mind shattering thought turbulence. Here goes the shallows and depths of my mind. If you have any thoughts, ideas, concerns or comments.. this is your story now as much as it is my mind. Maybe we can be there for each other. Welcome to my diary.
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Sometimes shit happens. Hey, it's not always your day, it's alright. One moment you're riding high, soaring above these mud-riddled plains with the king of mercs by your side, another, you're running far away from the crater he blew himself up in. You've really outdone yourself this time. W's dead, there's angel blood on your fingers and something itches to grow out of your skull. To pierce those gray curls of yours and bask in the twin moon's soft gaze. Something brewing deep within, eager to dim that halo forever and shatter your wings. A piece of you that's always been there, always hiding and growling, waiting for its moment to shine. So, hit the lights, Andy. Give it some stage time. Let yourself live a little. Throw out that Lateran jacket, put on some leather. Grow a pair of horns, befriend a fiend. Forget Laterano, forget Lungmen. Kazdel is your new home. And your new home's where you rightfully belong, you little rascal. Hellooooo people !! Here we are, a SPIN-OFF story of my "Curly Head" series, in which Andy actually went on that one job he previously ditched and got himself into quite a predicament. In this one, I'll turn the angst-meter down, I promise. W and Andy, happy times. :D This is, of course, perfectly fine as a standalone work, I think, but if you're new and wanna brush up on the lore then you can do just that! Series starts with "Goodbye Curly Head", rest is pretty straightforward. Summed up: thirteen year old boy from Laterano ships himself off to fight in the Kazdel Civil War for peacekeeping reasons, situation turns to shit at the end of his tour, forced to stay in Kazdel and make money as a merc, meets up the first W's crew at the age of sixteen, circus-slapstick follows. Ps: I'm not giving up on "Almost Green", only taking a small break and also delivering some much needed fluff-ish stuff. Tell me you thoughts in the comments, I tend to reply to every single one of them and love reading through them all! Have fun!

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