Horror immobolizes us because it is made of contradictory feelings: fear and seduction, repulsion and attraction. Horror is a fascination...Horror is immobility, the great yawn of empty space, the womb and the hole in the earth, the universal Mother and the great garbage heap...With horror we cannot have recourse to flight or combat, there remains only Adoration or Exorcism.

Nothingness is the basis of everything that exists today. It's the mother of creation & consciousness!

You are the moon that breaks the night . You are the fear that I hate to fight. Times are wrong in all that is done. My treasure is love that I give to only one. Cherrish the treasures given to your heart and never let anything hurt from the start. You chose your path so accept and believe, that peace love and light are needed to breathe.

Female say Pack Leader stop,_ Pack Leader said angrily.__hat?_ Caine could make no sense of it till he saw Diana striding up, dark hair flying, eyes furious.__ told this filthy beast to stop,_ Diana said, barely controlled.__top what?_ Caine demanded.__hey__e still attacking the kids,_ Diana said. __e__e won. Sam is dead. Call them off, Caine.__aine turned his attention back to the battle between Drake and the monster. __hey__e coyotes,_ Caine said coldly.Diana flew at him. __ou__e lost your mind, Caine. This has to stop. You__e won. This has to stop.___r what, Diana? Or what?_ Caine demanded. __o get Lana. I__ hurt. Pack Leader, do what you want.___aybe this is why your mother abandoned you,_ Diana said savagely. __aybe she could see that you weren__ just bad, you were twisted and sick and evil.

My old man's a white old manAnd my old mother's black.If ever I cursed my white old manI take my curses back.If ever I cursed my black old motherAnd wished she were in hell,I'm sorry for that evil wishAnd now i wish her wellMy old man died in a fine big houseMy Ma died in a shack.I wonder were i'm going to die,Being neither white nor black?

With my guitar, I could write my own stories, my own poems, and my own destiny. No one could take away the feelings, the emotions or the truth of my notes. They could hide secrets and provoke images of words that never should be whispered. I could compose the melody of my aching heart and write into it my own happily ever after since no one seemed to think after all my suffering I deserved one. That's okay, I would make my own.