tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76438965481723040382011-07-07T22:42:15.903-05:00Terrible tales and venomous verses from beyond the wallSeth H.noreply@blogger.comBlogger41100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7643896548172304038.post-68651395409694176492009-07-29T10:34:00.004-05:002009-09-11T21:31:33.172-05:00

Sebastian was alone. Again.There was something unholy about solitude, he thought, as if it was never part of the grand design. When a man is alone, he thinks too much. When he thinks too much, his thoughts turn into things...real, physical things with faces too terrible to describe. And then they make it their mission to beat the dark brown stinky shit out of the man who gave birth to them.

Seth H.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7643896548172304038.post-90706959082939659922009-07-24T13:58:00.003-05:002009-09-11T21:30:16.461-05:00

It was Saturday. It was February. It was cold.It was not catch-your-death cold or even freeze-your-nuts-off cold. Just annoying cold. Or at least annoying to those who weren't properly equipped to deal with it. Sebastian himself always liked the cold, probably because he came with his own insulation. There was something he found fresh and invigorating about the thin, dry air of winter,

Seth H.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7643896548172304038.post-90574043318558803012009-07-24T07:46:00.005-05:002009-09-11T21:30:16.461-05:00

Here is the secret: Sebastian Hart was not the Evil Twin.True, he had claimed to be the Evil Twin many times in the heat of speculative conversation, but this was more a part of a larger effort to mythologize himself than anything else. So here it is, the Truth laid out on the table, waiting for the hammer to fall and nail it down tight...he was not the Evil Twin. He had never been the Evil

Seth H.noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7643896548172304038.post-78962103574517295252009-07-23T13:24:00.005-05:002009-09-11T21:30:16.470-05:00

"I am your friend, you know me wellI clearly have no lies to tellNo bitter bill of goods to sellNo crooked branch from which I fellNo weakness for your tragic spellNo feather-minded doubts to quellNo need to stop the ringing bell...Muses, you can burn in hell."

Seth H.noreply@blogger.com0