Bio
33, thou art sick.
i. with arms outstretched to either side, he saunters. a tightrope act on the fine line between bliss eternal and shriveling in hell. he cracks a grin, laughs to himself and sways with the imbalances of his footfalls. way over yonder, the sea stretches endlessly: all gloom and denuded of life, of color, of sound and scent. and in his heart he feels with certainty, that this place will be his tomb.

