I try to be secretive, and I try to make life interesting, I do, I try. Do I fail? Do I succeed? Is there a form of success in my endeavors? Does it matter? I have a face that shows what I am thinking, despite what my mouth says. It is sickening at times. Those who are ignorant - who are "happy," say the things that strike me like a blow to the face. They insult, ignore, ridicule, mock, and rape me of my values and my principles until I can taste the bile at the back of my throat. So is the fight meaningful? Does it have a purpose? Do I wait? Do I read? The light, the heavy? Nietzsche? Camus?
The taste of Cherry Blossoms obscures the malice on the air,
~Sir December
What's in a Name?
- Sir December
- I come from the Healers of the Western Waters, from the swamps and lakes of Burgamont and Lilly; The Yellow Fields and White Hills. I come bearing potions and medicine. I am Sir December
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