The Impenetrable Wall being me, I decided it would be fun to give everyone (I suppose everyone can sometimes translate as no one) an idea of the writers whose wordsmithing has inspired me since a rather young age. That is to say, I try to emulate (both consciously and subconsciously) the way these individuals have guided their implements of creation and chaos. What magical forces did they hold sway over their everflowing wands of ebon pools, and other such rubbish. Of course, I’m not trying to mimic these guys, I’m just drawn to their prose, and I aspire to be just as eloquent and proficient as they were/are. I’m not sure what originally attracted me to these artisans of language. All I know is I kept coming back. So now, without further adieu, I present to you The List… Read the rest of this entry »

Through the Eye Of Time, I have pierced the dark veil that shrouds all mysteries. Hazy at first, I’m confused by the overlapping and colliding pandemonium of possibility, then everything is quite clear…

I can see.

As lucid as the dreams within my dreams, it is tomorrow’s tomorrow. It’s the history of my penultimate destiny! But it is not the future, but the future’s past through which I’m falling.

It’s as if I began my journey atop a blistering snow-capped spire, punching through the atmosphere. And now, as I plummet, I can see the course upon which I did tread, but have not. Time is reeling backwards, faster and faster, as I retrace my path, yet following it for the first time in any direction.

People, places, things… they move so utterly fleeting now, and they become one. A tunnel of white. To one end I am hurtling- The Beginning!

Suddenly I’m there! My eyes sense color and movement, but I’m blinded with darkness at the same time. Have I gone too far? Is this the past I have carelessly and haphazardly crossed into?

No. This is not my fate. I have seen it, and I know. This is not the past, but the present! I am here, typing these words into a machine that has become archaic to me. It feels odd, like I’m lifting the receiver to an old rotary phone. Something I remember from my past.

And I hear a voice.

Like silence, the voice speaks in ‘clicks’ and ‘clacks’ and sounds in the night. It’s words are clear.

“Through the Eye Of Time, I have pierced the dark veil…”