You can wear as much or little as you want
I’ll still see your eyes
You can share as many of your fears as you want
I’ll still see you the prize
But I am not a Christian

You can travel to the far side of the world
I’ll follow you anywhere
You can travel the globe through seven years
I’ll still be willing to care
But I am not a Christian

You can cry to the heavens and pound the Earth
I’ll meet you in the middle
You can sing the songs and dance til life is gone
I’ll never cease to solve the riddle
But I am not a Christian

You can question my mother, cast frowns at my father
I’ll hear your voice unfailing
You can point and glare, “Where ist thou dear brother?”
I’ll meet your eyes unwavering
But I am not a Christian

I’ll hold your hands throughout the night
I’ll feel your pulse everlasting
I’ll count every fine hair my sight can find
Even when your looks are passing
But I am not a Christian

Look at the snow falling from so high above
It falls ’round us with white innocence
Feel the quiet passion of what life could be
It surrounds us like the diamond essence
But I am not a Christian

You tell me, “You’re a nice guy but…”
You tell me, “You make me smile but…”
You tell me, “I feel good when you’re here but…”
You tell me, “I’m free to share my thoughts, but…”
“But I am not a Christian.”

I am the Christian who stalks in the night
I am who accuses and says you’re not right
I look in the mirror and declare the view perfect
Not a spot on me you’ll find, but you! – get thee behind.

I am the Christian grown overlarge by dawn
Get thy mind healthy dear sinner! Now pass the salt dear lover.
Cast thou gaze elsewhere, putrid filth, it is I – the world’s beauty
Not a spot on me you’ll find, but you! – get thee behind.

I cast my eyes to the heaven and shout
I look to the Earth and declare myself “Devout!”
Full of humility am I, hear the audience applaud
Not a spot on me you’ll find, but you! – get thee behind.

I caress they face with my manicured hand
Mine red eyes bore holes through your hide
Fear me O grim reaper. Fear this hand of mine!
Not a spot on me you’ll find, but you! – get thee behind.

I tire of your endless excuses, I have no love for you
Get thee out of my house, the sweet dream awaits me
You go do your false deeds fiend, leave me to contemplate eternal
Not a spot on me you’ll find, but you! – get thee behind.

A puritan saint am I O unchaste one. Avert your eyes!
This temple I prize so much, it shall lie dormant all night.
How dare you enjoy the flesh you filth! My fingers fan the flames.
Not a spot on me you’ll find, but you! – get thee behind.

Beware of empty ambition dear lost soul! It leads astray.
This world is not for me I think, but you – you it holds in sway.
The wolves come to get you little piggy, a toast to you.
Not a spot on me you’ll find, but you! – get thee behind.

I am the one who declares myself perfect.
I am the one who declares myself your hero.
I am the one who declares myself above you.
I am the one who declares myself saved eternal.
I am the one who declares myself wiser than thou.
I am the one who declares myself capable of casting the stone.
I am the one who declares myself special.
I am the one who declares myself Christian…and yet…
I am the one who will find myself roasting over the flames.

I just thought I’d let you all know that I’ve had the creative juices flowing like crazy recently. Everything from new and inventive ways to play Sid Meier’s Pirates! to the invention of an entire hero for Johannes and Susanna’s underground world. I think the 7 months I’ve spent adjusting to the new job and the responsibility involved with it had pretty much stifled the creative process that usually came so naturally to me. The best way to put it is to say that unless it came to understand copyright law and the intricacies of professionalism that much more, I provided my energy with no outlet. As a result, I think a lot of creative energy got dammed up in my head and it’s all bursting forth like a massive flood. My poor wrist can’t keep up(don’t ask why, but I’ve always preferred pen and paper to a keyboard).

Anyways, I’m just forewarning my readers that 2, possibly 3, short stories will be making their way to this board in the coming months. The first, Tears in the Rain, I’m about 6 pages into, and have quite a ways to go on paper – though it’s entirely written in my head. The second, Auburn Eyes, doesn’t have  a word on paper yet, but the rough outline also exists in my head and the rest will be shored up as I write and get a better feel for the setting and characters. The third, Five Years, may not make it to Xanga – but it’s only a rough idea right now so that status may change between now and March/April.

Oh yeah, you may find this odd, but I find that for some reason the Tiberian Sun soundtrack is a highly effective cd to listen to while writing.

-Shadowrunner81

Gonna miss ya Karen. Come work for OSU! Let them have their Jam. You and I can become Daren!

http://tv.yahoo.com/news/article/urn:newsml:eonlinekristen.com:20070208:tv-4f49b29045cbdabc4d11c1b67da7edd5__ER:1;_ylt=AqD_X2.wl.MdFUG7_v2gv6.Ao9EF

What is wrong with this picture?

http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20070202/ap_on_sc/france_climate_change

“The public should not sit back and say ‘There’s nothing we can do’,” Steiner said. “Anyone who would continue to risk inaction on the basis of the evidence presented here will one day in the history books be considered irresponsible.”